Exiles
by Tribal Shimmy
Summary: Alexander and Hephaistion head in to the wilds of Illyria. AU story...I think! FINAL CHAPTER - Well it had to end some time! Thank you so much for all of your reviews!
1. Chapter 1

Hephaistion shivered against the cold and pulled his fur cloak tightly round him, looking over towards the mountains, then down to the waiting horses. He sighed, his breath becoming a mist on the cold air, as he leaned against the stone pillar of the palace.

It was not a place either he or Alexander knew well, and it's hospitality had been quickly used up as Philip's threats and accusations arrived, seemingly daily, with exhausted messengers. It became clear they had to leave, to save Alexander's young uncle any trouble from Alexander's war-ravaged father.

Hephaistion could not take his eyes off the mountains. Even from here, from the comfort of the palace at Dodona, they looked hostile, like the tribes that inhabited them. Illyrians. They would cut the hearts from their own mothers if they thought they could profit from it.

His father used to trade with them, they would come down from the mountains in the spring and travel to Hephaistion's home. Long before he went to Pella; long before he met Alexander. Through their visits, with the ease that a child can learn, he began to know their language, and hoped, what he could remember, would be useful to them now.

He pulled the cloak even tighter. It had been Alexander's idea to head there. But in truth where else could they go? Alexander needed to stay close enough to Macedon, but far enough from it too.

Hephaistion wondered what Philip would think when he heard where Alexander was headed. It was a dangerous place, and Alexander was, at present, his only viable heir.

Olympias' voice rang out, as footsteps were heard on the stone entrance, Alexander's soft voice straight after it.

Making his move, Hephaistion went to his horse. He leapt on to it, then leaned forward to untie the packhorse, carrying all the provisions they would need. As he sat upright, Alexander came to Bucephalus, smiling at him as he passed by.

Stealing a glance at Olympias, Hephaistion pushed his horse forward, towards Illyria. Any farewells would not be meant for him. He rode along the streets of the capital, heading for the open country. Pulling a large fur pelt, over his legs, to keep them warm. It was not long before Alexander caught up with him. He was grinning, looking forward to their adventure.

"You'd think we had an invitation to visit Illyria," Hephaistion said, and smiled.

Alexander laughed. "I like the freedom that comes with exile. I don't know about you but I was tiring of being my uncle's guest, of thanking him for everything…of having my quarters so far away from yours."

"Well, that would have been your mother's idea," replied Hephaistion. "The one night you tried to come to me, wasn't it she who stopped you, told you it would cause offence."

"Well, we're free of her now," said Alexander, bringing Bucephalus close to Hephaistion's mare. He clasped Hephaistion by the neck, pulling him forward, and kissed him, claiming him. When he pulled away, he saw people in the street staring at him. Alexander ignored them. "I'll give you more than that tonight," he promised, and smiled.

They rode on, leaving the houses behind, across a plain, fording a river, and then climbed several hills, leaving what they knew behind. The snow covered trees, against the blue sky, looked beautiful. They weren't headed anywhere in particular, just somewhere that Philip could not reach them so easily.

Alexander's other companions had written to him at Dodona, they wanted to join him. Ptolemy and Perdiccas had left Pella, considering it not wise to stay in the current climate of suspicion and accusation. They had headed for Perdiccas' family home, at Lefkadia. Seleucus had gone on to Pilea, where he was staying as guest friend to a merchant called Clearchus. The rest, all scattered, waiting to see what would happen, all eager to follow Alexander. He had refused them, believing it was safer just to travel with Hephaistion, not to bring any unnecessary attention on themselves.

Alexander looked over at Hephaistion, smiling at the look this cold weather gave him. He looked handsome wrapped in furs, against the backdrop of snow. It snowed at Pella, but never stayed as constant as it did here. As if aware of Alexander gazing on him, Hephaistion turned and smiled.

"How far do you want to go on for?" he asked.

Alexander looked up at the sky, judging it to be mid-afternoon. He looked ahead, seeing a river, some trees that would provide shelter and firewood. He nodded in the general direction. "What about here?"

Hephaistion smiled. "Perfect."

They made camp, lighting a fire. Alexander fetched more wood, while Hephaistion fetched water. Then they both unloaded the pack horse, and saw to the horses before finding food for themselves, that they had brought with them. There was also wine, that they decided to water down, both aware they needed to be on their guard in this hostile land.

Sitting around the fire, they watched the sun go down. It was setting on a day when everything had changed for them. All that they had known had gone for now. All that they had been prepared for at Mieza appeared to have been taken from them.

"We could have stayed in Epirus," Hephaistion commented, getting up and going over to the furs that would make their bed that night. He considered undressing, but decided it was too cold to bother.

"Well, I'm glad we're here," Alexander replied, checking on the horses before he came over to Hephaistion and lay down beside him.

Hephaistion threw the furs over them, and they both shivered for a moment until their bodies warmed the covers. He nestled against Alexander's chest. "What would your father have done anyway?" he asked. "Would he have appeared with an army and demanded your return?"

Alexander wrapped an arm around Hephaistion's shoulders. "My uncle has his own problems," he whispered, kissing the top of Hephaistion's head gently. "He might need my father's assistance, and he's not likely to get it while I am a guest. It's an apology he wants, anyway."

Hephaistion laughed. "Well, he has no right asking for one. Attalus was in the wrong.

Alexander laughed too. "And you took the insult the same as if he had called you a bastard. I think you beat me to him, and fought harder."

"How far north do you intend going?" asked Hephaistion, sitting up and turning to gaze in to Alexander's eyes, only visible by the firelight now.

Alexander shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. If we could find some place to stay, that would be good, but I know the Illyrians don't take kindly to strangers, especially to Macedonians." He kissed Hephaistion's lips, and smiled. "Enough talking. We have made our decision; we are here now. We best make the most of it."

Hephaistion opened his mouth, as Alexander's locked against his own, groaning, lifting his body, as Alexander's hands explored. Fumbling through the clothing, through the furs.

Alexander broke the kiss momentarily. "If I didn't know it would all be worth it in the end, I might give up the idea, you're so well wrapped," he said with a grin, then launched back in to battle.


	2. Chapter 2

They broke camp early the next morning and rode off in to the mountains. After the previous night, they could both see the benefits of having the freedom to do as they wished. Hephaistion grinned over at Alexander, before turning to encourage the pack horse to keep pace with his own.

They travelled through a forest, that clung to the side of a mountain, the shale path becoming narrow in places, before they came upon a wide valley. Alexander led the way, forever eager to see what was round the next bend.

They rode down by the side of waterfalls, then back along another track, they decided must have been made by sheep or goats during the summer months.

There was no sign of any domestic animals, or wild ones, so after heading north, a little longer, they turned north west and then chose to make camp in the mid afternoon. They discussed the fact that they had not seen a living soul. It concerned them, as they had hoped to trade for what they needed, if necessary.

With this in mind, Alexander headed off to set snares, and to see if he could hunt for anything, while Hephaistion stayed and saw to the horses before setting up camp.

They were higher up now. The view, with the setting sun was spectacular. But it was colder, and after looking out towards the mountains Hephaistion made his way back to the fire. It was roaring away, but they did not have enough wood to sustain it. Hephaistion cursed himself that he had not though to stop and gather wood when they were riding through the forest.

He stepped on to a small ridge and turned a full circle, seeing a copse of trees not far away. He went over to their supplies and picked up an axe, then headed over, stumbling in the snow. The white of the snow shone in the darkness. He looked over his shoulder, seeing the firelight, and wondering when Alexander would return. Making it to the trees he busied himself with cutting and collecting wood.

"So, Hephaestus lives."

Hephaistion turned, axe raised in his hand, to see Alexander. He held a javelin in his hand but nothing else. "My mother approved of the God, as well you know," smiled Hephaistion. "You didn't catch anything then?"

Alexander looked back the way he had come, then back to Hephaistion. "There was nothing to take a shot at. I just checked the snares, but they are empty."

"Well, perhaps by morning we will have something. Now, help me with this wood, Alexander," replied Hephaistion, handing a bundle to his friend. He caught a look from him as he handed the timber over. "We have no servants now," he explained."

"I know," Alexander replied, beginning to head back to their camp. "I'm just concerned that game is scarce. Our supplies can't last forever."

"We can always eat, Bucephalus," Hephaistion commented dryly, biting his lip as he walked past Alexander, who had stopped, stunned by Hephaistion's suggestion.

Hephaistion glanced back to see that Alexander had put down the wood and was reaching down for some snow. He held out his hand. "No, Alexander! I was joking, put down the snow. I was joking, I wouldn't eat Bucephalus, not unless the meat was well-roasted first." He laughed, only to have a snowball smack in to the side of his head.

With a battle cry, Hephaistion made his own snowball and launched it at Alexander, who almost avoided it, but it hit him in the thigh. He went to make another, but glanced up to see Alexander sprinting towards him. He had only just straightened up when Alexander flew at him, pinning him to the ground.

Hephaistion writhed underneath Alexander, struggling to escape. He then feigned defeat, waiting until Alexander relaxed.

Alexander laughed. "I say we should eat your mare, Hephaistion."

"Briseis?" laughed Hephaistion. Seizing his chance and rolling Alexander on to his back and pinning him. "Far too young…and pretty." He leaned forward and kissed Alexander. "But we'll find food. I don't think that either of us will be walking."

He released Alexander, moving quickly to avoid a counter-attack. He scooped up the wood he had been carrying, then realised that Alexander still meant to give chase. "The wood, Alexander. Don't forget the wood." He laughed as he saw Alexander turn back, knowing he would be made to pay for it when he got back to camp. It would be a good kind punishment, the loving kind that would warm them both.


	3. Chapter 3

They awoke to snow the next morning, it had settled on the furs and covered their supplies.

Hephaistion looked up at the sky. It was grey, no hint of blue. He nudged Alexander, then pulled himself up, lifting one of the furs and wrapping it around himself. He went to check the horses, who had turned their backs to the slight breeze, that at times would make the snow fall faster. He untethered the pack horse and led it down to where he could easily load it up. Alexander had just got up, and like Hephaistion he had wrapped a fur around himself to keep warm.

Alexander too, looked up at the sky. "It's not likely to stop," he commented, more to himself than to Hephaistion. They had some bread left. He went to the supplies and found it, breaking it in half and handing the other to his companion. "I'll go and check the snares I set, perhaps, if the Gods are with us, we'll have a warm supper tonight.

"Don't be long," Hephaistion replied. Deciding to use what wood they had remaining to build the fire once more.

The pack horse was ready to go, and the fire welcoming by the time Alexander returned, empty-handed. He shook his head in disbelief. "Not even a rabbit," he complained, aware that they would be eating bean stew for supper, instead of meat.

"I like bean stew," smiled Hephaistion, handing Alexander his cloak and some furs. He looked towards the route they would follow today. "It's as if we are alone in the world, Alexander. And to be honest, I quite like that too."

Alexander grinned and shook his head. Hephaistion could always lift his mood. With the sudden belief that things could not get worse, he went to fetch Bucephalus.

OOXXOO

Things did seem to look up, when they finally located their first village. They rode along a path and in to the centre, looking for the chief. People came out to stare at them, children shouted up at them. The young men held back, hands to their weapons.

Finally, coming to the largest wooden structure in the village, a man stepped before them.

Alexander and Hephaistion both dismounted. The man spoke to them.

"We have the chief," Hephaistion said, before replying in what, to Alexander, seemed like flawless Illyrian. Hephaistion always had a gift for languages, he knew some Persian and a few Egyptian words, enough to make himself understood.

While Hephaistion spoke, Alexander looked up at the sky. The snow was falling faster now. He hoped they would be offered a place to stay. He looked back, having heard the name 'Amyntor' spoken by the chief. Hephaistion was nodding. The chief's face broke in to a big grin. He gave Hephaistion a big pat on the back, and welcomed him inside.

It was good to be out of the snow. Alexander looked over his shoulder to see a couple of young boys already taking care of the horses, then looked ahead to see a large hall, with tables and benches, and a huge fire roaring at the end of it.

Some women sat inside, and smiled up at him, talking and laughing amongst themselves. At a shout from the chief, one of the women got up and hurried to pour a drink for the chief and his guests.

Hephaistion turned to Alexander and smiled. "The chief's name is Stegran, his brother used to trade with my father. His brother is dead now, killed in battle with another tribe, but Stegran said my father provided them with fine horses, that he was honourable and on that basis , we are welcome to stop the night."

"Just the night?" asked Alexander, hoping they could stay until the weather improved.

Hephaistion smiled. Then spoke to the chief before turning back to Alexander. "He's agreeing, that game is scarce. But he has some beans he can let us have, if we have something to trade in return."

"What does he want?"

"The pack horse…if he can have it." Hephaistion took a drink of what he had been offered. "We have two flasks of wine. I think he will eventually agree to that. It's better than this, whatever it is."

Alexander smiled, and nodded at the chief, risking a sip of the drink, careful not to show that it tasted like goats piss, or what he imagined goats piss would taste like. He looked around the hall, smelling meat roasting, and wondered if this tribe knew where to hunt for food. There were plenty of them to feed, they had to know where the wild boar roamed, at least.

He thought it would be an easy thing, to head off in to the mountains of Illyria with Hephaistion, to hunt for game and explore the land, while waiting for the fates to decide their future…while hoping that his father would send for him, in a way that made no demands; in a way that showed the love Alexander had seldom seen from his father.

With that thought, he turned to gaze on Hephaistion, who was talking to the chief. From the very first moment that they met, Hephaistion had offered nothing but his love and loyalty. When he had proposed heading in to these hostile lands, Hephaistion had totally supported the idea, although Alexander was aware he must have had doubts about their safety. Even here, where the chief appeared hospitable, he would make sure he slept with his sword by his side.

The chief patted Hephaistion's shoulder, and then left the hall shouting orders as he went.

Hephaistion turned and smiled at Alexander. "Stegran says that if we go any further north we'll come to a range of mountains, at the foot of which is a vast lake. From here he says to keep to the east, the tribes to the west are not as…" Hephaistion laughed, "…as cultured as they are."

"How far to the lake?" Alexander asked.

"About five days from here, with other villages along the way."

Alexander considered what they had brought with them. Some fodder for the horses, plates, a couple of pots, the axe, furs, rope, beans, their shields, wine and clothing. They had also brought some bread, but that had gone. What was left he did not want to trade as they might need it.

"We'll just trade the wine, for more beans then," he agreed.

"Would you like me to fetch a change of clothes?" Hephaistion asked.

Alexander let the fur cloak he was wearing fall back. He wore a long sleeved chiton, with a leather belt. On his feet were cavalry boots, but his legs were bare, no self-respecting Macedonian would consider wearing leggings. He often thought that Macedonian pride should sometimes be sacrificed for comfort, but at the moment, not wearing leggings, reminded him of his Macedonian heritage. He put his hand up to his face. He needed to shave. That had caused enough discussion, when the court realised that he would not be keeping the beard that other Macedonians sported with pride.

He nodded to Hephaistion, who stood up and went outside to locate the horses.

Alexander stood up and went over to the fire, still carrying the drink in his hand, a second sip had made it appear more palatable. He looked in to the flames, his mind going back to his father's wedding night, over the words that were said. He closed his eyes, seeing Attalus laughing at him, seeing his father pointing at him, casting accusations, agreeing with Attalus. He had no choice but to leave, even if he had not already decided for himself, his father's proclamation of banishment, before the entire court, was enough.

He opened his eyes, and shook his head as if to dispel the visions in his head. He thought too much on it. He took another drink of the foul brew in his cup, and noticed a girl approaching from his right. She held a flask in her hand, and spoke to him as she filled his cup.

Her hair was dark and unkempt, the gown she wore was torn and dirty, and yet Alexander reckoned that with a bath and fine clothes she could be a match to any woman at Pella. He thanked her for the drink, she spoke to him, and not understanding what she said he smiled and nodded, which made her laugh and run away back to her companions.

It was to these women laughing that Hephaistion returned. He looked over to them as he made his way to Alexander, carrying a bundle of clothing. Alexander followed Hephaistion's gaze back to the women.

The dark-haired girl laughed. "Thelo!" she said, repeating what she had said to him.

"Thelo," Alexander replied, smiling, then turned back to see Hephaistion gazing on him with laughter in his eyes.

"What is it?" Alexander asked, but Hephaistion did not answer him.

Hephaistion turned back to the women and spoke to them. They pointed to a dark alcove at the end of the hall, and Hephaistion put his hand on Alexander's back and guided him to it, telling him that was where they would be sleeping that night.

A rough woollen blanket gave a little privacy in the small space where a mattress, filled with straw and covered with furs, lay on the dirt floor. There was a bowl on the floor and a jug beside it.

Hephaistion stepped around to the far side of the mattress, dropping the clothing down on to it as he removed his fur cloak, and started to undress. Alexander followed his lead, watching as Hephaistion poured water in to the jug and began to wash, then shave.

Alexander watched Hephaistion, crouched down by the bowl, wearing only his cavalry boots and longed to take him on the mattress there and then. He too, only wore cavalry boots and did not try to hide his arousal as Hephaistion stood up, pouring his share of the water away, and turning to him.

He went to Hephaistion as he poured fresh water, letting the fingers of his right hand caress Hephaistion's waist, to go to his chest and down to his groin, grinning as he felt Hephaistion's arousal match his own.

Their lips sought each others, and Alexander encouraged Hephaistion to move back, until his back was against the wall. Hands greedily seeking each other, stroking, teasing, until they both required release.

"Thelo," Hephaistion whispered, biting Alexander's ear, before he turned to face the wall.

There had been times like this at Mieza….at Pella, when their need was urgent but they had to act quickly and keep silent. It felt like one of those times now, when they might be disturbed at any moment, when they both knew they had to bite back any cries of passion.

Hephaistion parted his legs, his hands stroking the wall, then reaching back as Alexander entered him. He threw his head back to rest it on Alexander's right shoulder, biting his lip. Alexander bit his neck and held him tightly as he began to thrust, reaching for Hephaistion, his hand matching his pace. They came together, Hephaistion turning as best he could to find Alexander's lips, stifling the words of love he would have spoken.

Alexander withdrew, and grinned at Hephaistion, kissing his lips briefly before moving away, before turning to wash himself and shave. Hephaistion crouched down beside him and poured some water from the jug in to his hand so that he could clean himself.

He grinned at Alexander, then stood up and dressed, again in a long-sleeved chiton, to match Alexander's. He tied his belt and ran his fingers through his hair, tidying it, then lay back on the mattress and watched Alexander while he finished shaving and then dressed.

"Do you want to tempt me again?" Alexander laughed, holding out a hand to help Hephaistion to his feet.

He pulled back the blanket to see that the women had gone, but several of the men had gathered inside. Their conversation went quiet as they saw Alexander and Hephaistion appear, but then Stegran appeared and seemed to assure them things were well.

Food and drink was served, the men attempted to teach them drinking songs and having discovered that Alexander could not speak their language soon made the most of it. They laughed at the obscenities Alexander was saying, and then Hephaistion translated an old Macedonian hunting song into Illyrian, and they realised their words were tame by comparison and gave up the game.

The whole village seemed to have gathered in the hall. The women poured drinks and served food, while children held on to their mother's or ran about with toy spears or swords, pretending to hunt or fight.

As the drink had its effect, the men either left the hall, some with women, or fell asleep where they sat. Stegran lay on the floor, by the fire, his arm around a young girl who did not seem to object to his advances.

Wishing their hosts health, Alexander and Hephaistion returned to the space allocated to them, and once undressed they slid under the furs.

Alexander turned on to his right side, intending to reach for Hephaistion, but just as he did the young serving girl appeared, quickly shimmying off her dress to stand naked before him. She shivered and quickly pulled back the furs, sliding down alongside Alexander, wrapping herself around him as she pulled the furs back over.

Hephaistion was convulsed with laughter at what had happened, at the look on Alexander's face, just about visible by the lamplight from the hall. The girl wriggled her way over Alexander's body, to lie between them, her back to Hephaistion.

Alexander jumped as she felt the girl's hand reach for his groin. Hephaistion laughed louder, having to look away to gain some control of himself. Alexander held the girl's wrist, bringing her hand up to his chest. The girl said something and lunged forward to kiss him.

"Hephaistion!" Alexander hissed, moving back from the girl, sitting up, still having to fend her off and counter-attack her advances. "Hephaistion!" he yelped, as the girl's hand shot forward, reaching for his groin once more.

"You invited her here," Hephaistion said, clutching at his side and trying to stop the laughter that was now becoming painful. Tears ran down his face. "Thelo means 'fuck me'. She asked and you agreed.

"But I don't want 'thelo' not with her," groaned Alexander. The girl had thrown her arms around his neck and was clinging to him, rubbing her naked breasts against him.

"Thelo," the girl murmured, pushing back the furs and straddling Alexander.

"Don't mind me," grinned Hephaistion.

Alexander pushed the girl away, and stood up from the mattress, grabbing for his discarded chiton and holding it over his groin as a shield. The girl formed a fist and punched the mattress, then turned to Hephaistion and spoke quickly, her hands pointing to Alexander.

Hephaistion replied to her, caressing the side of her face with his hand, then running his hand down her arm. The girl frowned, then crawled over the mattress, reaching for her dress. She put it on, glared over at Alexander, and then left.

Laughing. Hephaistion patted the mattress. "You can come back to bed now. It is safe."

Alexander looked back the way that she had gone, as if she might appear again. Then, as if deciding for himself it was safe, he threw down his chiton and came back to lie beside Hephaistion. "You knew this was going to happen," he said.

"You should be careful what you say, Alexander."

"And what did you tell her?"

"That you like the boys. But she thought it was a very Greek thing to do. She asked if you and I were lovers….and I told her that …"

"You told her that we were," said Alexander, kissing Hephaistion's lips in gratitude.

"I told her that I took you." Hephaistion grinned. "You wouldn't make me out a liar now. Would you?" he asked, moving his body over Alexander's as he spoke.

Alexander ran his finger's along the side of Hephaistion's face, sliding them along to entwine them in his hair. "Thelo," he murmured, as he reached to kiss Hephaistion's lips once more.


	4. Chapter 4

They left at mid-morning the next day after a bowl of oats boiled in milk.

Stegran had used his knife to draw a map out on the table before them as they ate. Again he pointed them towards the lake, warning them to go east. To go east now would only send them back to Macedon, to go west they would hit a range of mountains that could not be passed this time of year. Their route was set.

No offer was made for them to spend another night, but a deal was made for the wine, and they had a small sack of beans to add to the load already carried by the pack horse.

At least it had stopped snowing; the sky was blue once more.

Alexander and Hephaistion said their farewells and then headed out of the village, going north.

They had not gone far when Hephaistion reined in his horse and jumped from its back.

"What is it?" Alexander asked, seeing Hephaistion checking their supplies.

Hephaistion frowned and shook his head. "The axe, one of the pots and the rope have gone," he replied. "Illyrians are nothing but thieves. We haven't anything to trade now, everything we have we need." He stepped away from the pack horse, going to his own and leaping back onto it.

"That one night cost us," Alexander said, summing up their feelings. "I think, where possible, we should avoid any contact with villages."

"Perhaps we should go east. It'll bring us closer to Macedon, but so long as we stay far enough…"

"My father will not send for me," Alexander said, interrupting. "Not yet. We can't go south, Thebes and Athens will have spies looking for us, we could be held hostage or killed. I won't go east and appear to be hoping for forgiveness, ready to be recalled the moment his heart softens. The mountains stop us going west, just yet, and so we will go north."

"North," agreed Hephaistion, and pushed his horse forward.

They rode across a large stretch of open land, in to some woods and almost through them, stopping when they came to a clearing to make camp. Seeing to the horses they both went hunting, setting snares and tracking game through the snow, but the animal, a young boar by the look of it, stayed invisible. The tracks came down to a stream and then disappeared.

"We should have brought some dogs with us," Alexander said as they headed back to their camp.

"The ground's too frozen, and even sight hounds would have trouble spotting anything that isn't there to be seen," Hephaistion countered. He turned and smiled at Alexander. "We can live on what we have, and things will change for us soon. You are not that bad a hunter, Alexander."

Alexander grinned, and cuffed Hephaistion on the arm, who would have put the greatest actor to shame by the way he pretended it hurt. His spirits had lifted once more when they arrived back at their camp, and he set a fire while Hephaistion filled the remaining pot with snow, and laid the furs out on the ground to make their bed for the night.

*********************************************************************

The next day, they awoke to snow, once more. They broke camp early, after eating what was left of the bean stew, from the night before.

Attempting to make ground, it became more of a struggle to go forward, the horses stumbled across the uneven, icy, ground. The sun was enclosed in the grey of the sky and a wind came up, almost blinding them in the snow. With no other choice they headed for the shelter offered by a hillside with a rock face forming a natural semi-circle which gave them some protection from the elements.

This time, Hephaistion had thought to gather wood, and they were grateful for it, able to start a fire and see to the horses, before huddling under the furs, holding each other for warmth.

They passed a long day like this, only emerging to check on the horses before it grew dark. It was then that they discovered the pack horse had broken free, the rope that had been holding it was broken. Worse still, the horse had gone through their supplies, ripping open the bags of beans, spilling them in to the snow, before taking off in to the wilderness.

Hephaistion tried to salvage what he could, while Alexander wrapped his cloak around himself and headed off to see if he could find the animal. There was no sign of it and Hephaistion had only managed to retrieve enough for another meal. Alexander checked on their two horses, praising them, as whatever had spooked the packhorse, enough for it to break free, had not affected two seasoned cavalry horses.

He came back to the campfire, to find Hephaistion sitting by it, his cloak and furs gathered around him. He was waiting for the fire to melt the snow he had placed in the pot.

"I should go and set snares," Alexander said, sitting down beside him.

Hephaistion looked up at the sky. "It is too dark for that. But we should head on first thing in the morning, no matter what the weather. We should try to locate a village."

Alexander kicked a loose stone in to the fire, it hissed as the water on it evaporated. "We have nothing to trade."

After considering their situation, for a moment, Hephaistion replied. "I would let Briseis go. Bucephalus is strong enough to carry two."

Alexander shook his head. "No. We aren't trading our horses, not when the fates might take kindly on us." He looked to Hephaistion and smiled. "Perhaps, a kind Goddess would make a rabbit hop our way."

Hephaistion added what beans they had in to the pot. "If it would hop its way in to this pot right now I would be grateful," he said, returning Alexander's smile.


	5. Chapter 5

After a cold night, they rose early, splitting what they had between themselves, they loaded it on to their own horses. Deciding to abandon any idea of searching for the pack horse as there were no tracks to follow, and although it had stopped snowing the sky was still grey.

They headed north for most of the morning, then looked for shelter, finding it in some woods, where the trees were thick and provided protection from the wind. The horses were able to forage for food, while Hephaistion gathered more wood and Alexander went to set snares.

After lighting a fire, Hephaistion sat by it, warming himself. They had nothing to eat, but they had both gone hungry before now. He stood up, remembering he had not laid out the furs for their bed, at least they could take comfort from each other.

He heard a shout go up, from the direction that Alexander had headed in. Without hesitation he ran, pulling his sword from its sheath as he did so, stumbling through the snow, dodging the low lying branches, to find Alexander in the process of lifting a young deer over his shoulders.

Alexander grinned up at him as he arrived. "I hope you're hungry, Hephaistion."

Hephaistion placed his sword back in its sheath, and waited for Alexander to come to him. "We should offer some meat to whichever god helped us," he advised.

Alexander nodded, agreeing. "Though I doubt any god or goddess is likely to be as hungry as we are at this moment," he said.

OOXXOO

They roasted the deer on a spit, then ate their fill before climbing under the covers.

"If we catch anything in the snares, then perhaps we should stay here," Hephaistion suggested.

Alexander pulled Hephaistion close. "It was only one deer, and I know it is the first that we have killed, but it will be no adventure to stay, it will simply be surviving. While we are here I would like to get the feel of the land. I shouldn't hope that we can return to Macedon so soon. It might be years before we can."

Hephaistion laughed. "And other exiles have gone to Persia and been welcomed by the Great King himself, while we head for Illyria and shiver in the snow."

"I won't go to Persia unless I am part of a Macedonian invasion," Alexander replied. He looked at Hephaistion. "Is it so bad?"

Hephaistion kissed his lips, one kiss turning in to several. "I wouldn't swap this for the whole of Persia," he smiled as Alexander moved over him.

OOXXOO

Two rabbits had been caught in the snares, during the night.

It lifted their spirits to know they already had supper. The snow had stopped, the wind had dropped, and they headed north laughing and joking with each other.

After leaving meat for the god or goddess who had helped them, Alexander had cut what was left from the bone, saving it in a cloth. They ate this at mid-day, when they stopped to rest the horses. The good weather had stayed with them and they felt as if their fortunes were changing for the better.

The land levelled out before them, making their journey easier, and they made good progress before setting up their camp.

This time Hephaistion went to set the snares, while Alexander skinned and gutted the rabbits, skewering them on a wooden spit he had made. He saw to the horses, then laid out the furs and fetched more wood for the fire.

Alexander grew restless waiting for Hephaistion to return, he walked over in the direction that Hephaistion had headed, seeing his tracks in the snow. To amuse himself he let his left foot settle in Hephaistion's left foot print, then did the same with the right, judging that Hephaistion took a bigger stride than he did. But Hephaistion walked slowly, where he walked quickly, so Alexander smiled in the belief that they were a perfect match, even if their boots were different sizes.

He wandered back to the fire, then up a small ridge to look across the plain, instantly dropping out of sight as he saw tribesmen riding across it. He looked back to the fire, considering whether he should kick it out, but it was not yet dark and he gauged that it could not be seen.

Suddenly, fearing for Hephaistion, wondering how far his hunt had taken him, Alexander reached for his sword and went running along the path that he had taken. Knowing better than to call out, all that he could do was follow Hephaistion's tracks. They headed down towards the plain.

Alexander ran faster, dodging the trees, keeping an eye on the tracks, the plain was almost in view. As he ran down a bank and turned left he practically knocked in to Hephaistion, who fell backwards. Alexander launched himself on to him and rolled him back in to the shelter of some bushes, holding his hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. He just had time to notice the dead rabbit, Hephaistion held, before he turned to see the riders appear in the wood.

Knowing that Hephaistion had seen them, he removed his hand from his mouth. Hephaistion said nothing, but was also intent on watching the tribesmen.

The men talked amongst themselves, riding close by before turning away and disappearing in to the distance.

"I thought they would find you," Alexander said, voicing his fears.

"They're heading back to their village," Hephaistion said. "They've had a wasted journey, finding no game." He held up his hand, and the dead rabbit. "I just checked the snares and we have caught another already," he grinned, then pulled a face at Alexander. "I can't move."

Alexander was puzzled at first, then realised he was still pinning Hephaistion down. He lifted himself up, and crawled out from under the bushes.

Hephaistion laughed softly. "Not a very dignified way for a Prince of Macedon to behave," he said, crawling out after him.

"Don't make me wish they'd taken you," grinned Alexander. "I saved your life, you should be grateful, you should show me just how grateful tonight."

"So, they'd have killed me for a rabbit?" Hephaistion asked, grinning back at Alexander. "I would have let them have it, after all we've two more roasting back at camp. Haven't we?"

Alexander suddenly realised he had left the rabbits cooking, perhaps a little too close to the fire.

"Haven't we?" asked Hephaistion, following Alexander as he ran back to their camp.


	6. Chapter 6

It was snowing again, the following morning.

They went together to check the snares, but nothing else had been caught.

"If the tribesmen had found nothing, then perhaps this area is hunted out, we were just fortunate yesterday," Alexander said, pulling up the final empty snare.

Hephaistion pulled his cloak around himself. "They have goats, chickens, geese and cattle in the villages. That's how they keep themselves fed during a winter like this. We should have had the beans, for when the hunting was sparse…" He let his words trail off, Alexander knew it, there was no need to say it.

Alexander turned and headed back to their camp. "We'll go on and try somewhere else. We should be close to the lake, the one Stegran talked of. If we head east then, things might improve. We can try a village."

Before they left they washed and shaved, changing their clothing, making out that their situation was not so bad. They still had one rabbit left after all.

They headed on to the plain by mid-morning, heading north once again, guided by the pale sun in the sky. The fates seemed to be against them though, when the wind picked up and it began to snow faster, blocking out the sun and making their visibility poor.

Their horses tried to turn their backs to the wind, as they rode on, trying to find a place to shelter, only the sky got darker and they could not see far enough. They could have ridden past a perfect shelter and not have known it.

Alexander looked over to Hephaistion, seeing he was almost buried in the furs, turned white by the snow. He had pulled down the sleeves of his chiton to warm his hands as they held the reins. Alexander pulled his own furs around his body. They could be anywhere, but they had to keep going and hope to find somewhere they could stop until the weather improved.

They began to go uphill, not knowing where they were heading. Alexander said a silent prayer to Apollo to help them, and he answered, sending a shaft of sunlight to fall against a rock wall.

Hephaistion had seen it too, and they turned their horses towards it, struggling against the deep drifts to reach it. There was a piece of rock which had fallen away, the hole left in the rock did not quite form a cave, but there was room for the horses as well, and the fallen rock gave a little shelter.

Dismounting, they encouraged the horses to stand close to the rock. They had no firewood, there was nothing around them that they could use, nothing that they could see, buried in the snow.

Alexander held the horses, while Hephaistion unloaded them. All he could do was bring their furs to Alexander and then huddle next to him, taking the reins of his mare. Bucephalus stomped his foot, impatient to be fed.

"Blame your former companion," Alexander advised Bucephalus. "For taking all of the fodder and scattering the beans."

A gust of wind entered the shallow cave, bringing snow with it.

Hephaistion stood up, and picked up the javelin. He moved to the far end of their shelter, looking for somewhere he could wedge the javelin, trying it at waist height, which would be ideal. His plan worked, and he turned and grinned at Alexander, pulling on the wooden shaft to test how secure it would be.

Alexander stood up and brought the horses over to it, tying them. It freed them to find their own comfort, though Alexander removed his own cloak and put it over Bucephalus' back as he was more exposed to the elements, while Hephaistion's mare could shelter by the wall.

Hephaistion had taken the furs to the other end of their shelter, laying them out , and so, with a final look at the rabbit they should have been having for supper, Alexander went to lie alongside Hephaistion.

"If I though they would burn long enough, I would sacrifice my clothing to cook that rabbit," he said.

"All of your clothing?" questioned Hephaistion, grinning and reaching out for Alexander, putting his hands under the chiton to touch bare flesh.

Alexander jumped. "Your hands are cold, Hephaistion."

"I know, I'm trying to warm them," came the reply.

Alexander pulled Hephaistion close to him, wanting the comfort of touch but feeling too cold to take anything more. "My uncle said the land was wild, but he did not say that we would have this much trouble getting by. I'm sorry for bringing you here."

"I'm not sorry," Hephaistion replied, kissing Alexander's cheek and then settling his head against Alexander's shoulder. "Your father must know what he was forcing you to do. He's a wily old fox, hoping that by giving you no choice but to head out in to Illyria, in the depths of winter, you would break your resolve, and return to Pella, cold and hungry, begging his forgiveness. If you did, then you would not be my Alexander. I would rather die here with you, than see you have to apologise to Attalus."

Alexander held Hephaistion tightly. "I could not do this alone," he said.

"I'll stay by your side," pledged Hephaistion, then lifted up his head and grinned at Alexander. "It's not as if I could find my way back to Pella now, anyway. Do have any idea of where we are?"

"Maybe. I'll know better when the snow stops," Alexander grinned back.

"We could have ridden right by that lake," Hephaistion said. He pulled himself up from the covers.

"Where are you going?" Alexander asked.

"Just the cold and the call of nature," replied Hephaistion. "And who knows, there could be a forest just around the corner and the Gods be damned if there's the means to have a fire and eat just out of sight." Alexander went to go with him, but Hephaistion put his hand up signalling for him to stay. "Keep the furs warm," he said, pulling his cloak around him, before disappearing in to the snow.

00XX00

Hephaistion returned a short while after he had left, taking off his cloak and laying it on top of the furs, before lying down next to Alexander. There was nothing to be found, they were in for a long, cold, hungry night.

They spent time quoting The Illiad. In his haste to leave Pella, with the uncertainty of their future, Alexander had asked Ptolemy to find his copy and to keep it safe. He missed the comfort he found in the words, and so, listening to Hephaistion recite the words, he once again felt like Achilles, lying with his Patroclus.

He lay on his back, twisting a strand of Hephaistion's hair around his finger, while Hephaistion lay with his head against his chest, talking of Gods and battle, honour and bravery. When they were at Mieza, they would set themselves passages to learn, and lie at night, like this, reciting the words.

They could have been at Mieza now. Alexander smiled. Aristotle never let on that he knew Hephaistion shared his bed. Although Hephaistion said that the philosopher had seen him leaving his rooms early one morning; that he had just stood and smiled, with a look in his eye, that said he knew it would happen one day.

Hephaistion had taken Aristotle's words to heart; he still wrote to the man. Sometimes it was as if, all Aristotle's wisdom was wrapped up in the beauty and understanding that was Hephaistion.

"Damn the cold to Hades," Alexander murmured, finding Hephaistion's lips, needing more than just the comfort of touch.


	7. Chapter 7

A cold crisp morning greeted them the next day. No snow. No wind.

They were reluctant to move, but knew they had to. They loaded the horses up quickly, then clambered on to their backs and headed out in to the wilderness.

Distance was not important to them, finding fodder for the horses and wood to make a fire was. In the distance they could see a forest, and so they headed for it, then rode in, hoping to find shelter in the depth of it, somewhere to warm themselves, somewhere the horses could eat…where they could eat.

Coming up a hillside, expecting to go deeper in to the forest, they found an open plain before them, an opening in the forest, and a village in the centre of it. Trees encircled it, but the village had land around it. Smoke came from the wooden huts, children ran playing, women and men went about their daily chores.

They had horses in a paddock, goats too, cattle. Timber was stacked, wooden shelters full of hay, gathered in the summer.

Alexander looked at Hephaistion. "We haven't seen the lake, but that doesn't mean that we have not ridden past it. We could have, and gone either east or west."

Hephaistion nodded, his eyes remaining on the village. "I think that we went past it, but east or west, I don't know. It would be safer to head back, to ride past this village and find shelter elsewhere. Stegran's village is on the borders of Illyria - remember what he said about the tribes further north not being so cultured."

"If it snows again…" Alexander was concerned that they would find themselves without shelter, hungrier and colder than the night before.

Hephaistion gazed on Alexander. "We have only the rabbit to offer, but what if they want your shield, my sword, Bucephalus?"

"We could keep our distance at first. They won't catch us if we stay mounted."

Hephaistion was tempted, looking at the smoke rising in to the blue sky. Warmth and the comfort of a hot meal and a dry place to sleep. If they decided against it, then they would have to cover some distance to avoid any contact with the village; they too, would have tribesmen out hunting, to add what they could to their larders. Perhaps they should not be so wary. "If we keep our distance," he agreed. Following Alexander's lead as they headed down towards the village.

OOXXOO

What distance to keep, that was the problem. Too far, and it looked as though they were being over cautious, but riding right in to the village, in an unknown part of Illyria, was foolhardy.

Alexander halted Bucephalus at the edge of the village, by a pen containing fat goats, where chickens scratched about for grain lost in the snow.

"We're going to look foolish offering a thin, long dead rabbit," Hephaistion said, turning to smile at Alexander. "What would you like me to say?"

Alexander never got a chance to speak, as the situation suddenly took a turn for the worse. He looked away from Hephaistion to see men rushing towards him, he went to draw his sword, but was pulled from Bucephalus, kicked and punched, held still. His sword and dagger were taken from him and he was dragged up on to his feet.

He was encircled by men and brought in to a large, dimly lit, wooden hall. Long tables and benches appeared to fill it. In the centre of the room was a large fire, the smoke escaping up into a hole in the wood-beamed roof.

No chief had yet come forward. Alexander struggled to see Hephaistion, surrounded as he was by Illyrians, all who seemed to be talking at once, intent on pushing him forward.

Women and children gathered to look, the women giving what could only be taken as a victory cry.

Finally, Alexander was made to stand, and Hephaistion was brought alongside him.

"Are you alright?" Alexander asked him.

"You should have taken your chance, and escaped," Hephaistion replied.

"Not without you…if I had even had the chance," Alexander said, earning himself a thump in the back for his trouble.

Hephaistion turned, looking to fight whoever had dared touch Alexander. A shout went up and a man walked forward, dressed in gaudy, macabre clothing that marked him as chief.

His skin was marked. Blue. His hair long, uncombed; his beard straggly. He carried a club, strands of hair, in different shades, hanging from it. Notches on it. He talked fast, giving orders, then stood quietly studying the prisoners before him. He spoke to them, his chin jutting forward and upwards, his demeanour proud.

Alexander looked at Hephaistion. "What is he saying?"

Hephaistion shook his head. "He is talking too fast, his dialect is coarse. I don't know. Give me a moment."

One of the men who had captured them spoke. He grabbed at Alexander's hair, pulling him forward. Alexander struggled but could not free himself from the man's grip. The chieftan shouted, looking about the hall, he shouted again.

"Priest."

Alexander looked at Hephaistion.

"I know that word. He is calling for a priest."

The chief gave orders and once again Alexander and Hephaistion were pushed forward. This time to the back of the hall where flaming sconces illuminated what could only be an altar.

A crude, wooden carving, a representation of their God, sat on a stone bench, two skulls on either side of it. Gold and silver coins, chains, rings and bracelets had been placed amongst them in offering. A small fire burned in front of the altar, then just in front of that four sturdy posts had been set in the ground, two on each side.

"This isn't good," Hephaistion said, looking at the altar.

The chieftan stepped forward, standing before them. He made a speech, which pleased the tribe immensely. A cheer went up as their priest stepped forward, the chieftan bowing to him as he stepped back, letting the man take charge.

The priest was tall, muscular, used to respect. His hair was more unkempt than the chieftan's had been, but his beard had been cut short. His dark eyes showed cruelty and the strong belief in his power to summon the God. He turned to the altar, his long tattered robes, dragging in the dirt. He held his arms up as he began to chant, invoking the God.

"Sacrifices," Alexander said, needing nobody to translate. Illyrians sacrificed children to their God. Their own children. Two strangers to their land would be an easy sacrifice to make. He looked at Hephaistion, just as men gathered round them both and stripped them of their clothing.

Once they were both naked, the priest turned and pointed at Hephaistion, muttering an incantation as he did so.

"No!" Alexander cried, as Hephaistion was dragged forward and forced on to his knees before the altar. Alexander struggled against the men who pinned him, held him so he could only watch. He held himself still, gathering his strength. If they went to kill Hephaistion, if they tried to hurt him, then he would give his all and die trying to save him.

The priest turned to the altar and picked up a pair of shears. He came over to Hephaistion and grabbed a handful of his hair. Hephaistion's eyes stared up at the priest as the shears were brought down to slice through his hair. Hephaistion struggled, the priest gave a curse and the men holding Hephaistion down, took a tighter hold to keep him still.

The priest continued cutting. Hephaistion tried to stop it, the shears cutting his scalp, making it bleed, a track of blood running down his neck.

"Hephaistion," Alexander called, as his lover's beautiful, silken mane was shorn. Tears filled his eyes, he loved Hephaistion's hair, the way it framed his face, the softness of its touch against his body. He watched it falling to the floor, unable to do anything to stop it.

Alexander prepared to move; prepared to fight, but Hephaistion was pulled to his feet. Then he was jostled and moved back and secured against the first wooden post to the left of the altar. His eyes sought Alexander, as leather straps were fastened around his chest, waist, legs and ankles.

Alexander was dragged forward, beaten down on to his knees. The priest gripped his hair, and he suffered the same humiliation as Hephaistion, as the priest used the shears, cutting close to his scalp. He looked down, seeing gold merge with chestnut brown, the locks caressing each other. Suddenly angered by the priest's actions he struggled, feeling his scalp cut by the blade, the blood running down his face on to his cheek.

He sought Hephaistion as he was pulled upright and secured to the first post on the right of the altar.

The priest gathered the shorn hair into a bronze bowl, muttering a different incantation over it, before emptying the bowl into the fire. The fire crackled, and the scent of singed hair filled the air. People called out, their voices approving.

The priest walked over to Hephaistion, talking to him. The priest turned. Hephaistion was watching him, breathing hard, not sure of what he would fetch.

It was another bowl, this one had a thick blue paste in it. The priest put his hand into it, bringing it out and placing it over Hephaistion's heart, while he muttered another incantation.

He placed his hand in the bowl, this time placing his hand on Hephaistion's face. Then he brought a fine silver dagger out from under the folds of his cloak and ran the blade over Hephaistion's heart, the incantation slowed, as if coming to an end.

"No!" screamed Alexander, struggling against the leather cords which held him firm. "Hephaistion!" he cried.

Hephaistion kept his eyes fixed on Alexander's. "It's alright," he soothed.

The priest stepped back, satisfied that Hephaistion knew his fate.

He turned to Alexander, who was still struggling against the leather ties. He placed his hand in the bowl, then over Alexander's heart. "I am Alexander, son of Philip of Macedon," Alexander stated clearly. He looked at Hephaistion. "I don't care what they do to me, but I won't see you sacrificed, Hephaistion."

His words went unheard. The priest placed his hand over Alexander's face, leaving his mark, claiming him for the God.

This time it was Hephaistion who struggled and called out as the priest lifted the blade to Alexander's heart. He could not be sure that Alexander would not be sacrificed first.

Hephaistion was talking, in faltering Illyrian, as if he were struggling for the words. The people were looking for their chief, the priest turned away from Alexander, shouting above Hephaistion. What Hephaistion was saying was having an impact. Hephaistion locked his eyes on the priest, the words flowing from his lips now. The priest turned to look on Alexander, he was unsure.

The chief stepped forward. The priest stepped aside. Hephaistion turned to the chief, speaking slowly as if wanting the man before him to absorb his words.

"What are you saying?" Alexander asked.

Hephaistion ignored him, his words were having an effect on the chief. The man turned and spoke to the priest. Their words became heated, the priest pointing to the altar. Hephaistion called out. An agreement was reached, both the chief and the priest seemed satisfied.

"Hephaistion. Talk to me," Alexander pleaded.

The chief gave orders. Men stepped forward, freeing Alexander, removing the straps before tying his hands in front of him.

"I can't understand them so well, but they understand me," Hephaistion explained, moving against the leather ties that bound him, as if in the hope he might free himself. "I told them you were a great fighter, that you will teach them to fight like the Greeks, that you can show them how to win in battle over them. That they should not waste their chance."

Alexander pushed forward, managing to get to Hephaistion. "And what of you?" he asked, urgently, his eyes seeking the answer.

"They need a sacrifice," Hephaistion replied.

"No!" Alexander struggled as the men of the tribe pulled him back. He forced his way forward with every ounce of strength he had. His hands reached out for Hephaistion, managing to grasp one of the leather ties. What if he only had moments to be with him? His lips met Hephaistion's, saying more than words ever could, while the world erupted around them.

He was dragged away; pulled away from Hephaistion.

The chief stepped forward, talking slowly to Hephaistion, his hands miming what he thought his words would not convey. Hephaistion nodded. The chief laughed, so unexpectedly that the room went quiet. He took his knife from his belt and cut Hephaistion free, ignoring the pleas of the priest. He turned to the tribe and made a declaration. Cries of delight went up.

Not believing what had just happened, Alexander was reunited with Hephaistion.

"You saved me with your kiss," Hephaistion murmured. "They think we are members of the Sacred Band, no doubt in exile since Chaeronea, and here to protect them from Philip."

Alexander gave a breath of relief. Smiling, his bound hands reaching up to touch Hephaistion's face, as best he could, he wiped the blood away, then studied his friend and lover. "You look a sight," he murmured.

Hephaistion looked on Alexander. "You have looked better," he replied, but tears were in his eyes for what had been done.

Alexander leaned forward and kissed Hephaistion's cheek, knowing it would do no harm. "We are alive."

They were pulled apart, once more, then allowed to dress. Hephaistion's hands were also bound before they were led over to a table where they were forced to sit. A bowl of thin broth was placed in front of each of them, stale bread pushed in to their hands and they were encouraged to eat.

Alexander managed to cup the bowl in both hands and drank the broth, which tasted rancid. He looked over at Hephaistion, to see him softening the bread in the broth before eating it; his face showing that the bread still tasted bad, despite having been wet.

It was hard to recognise Hephaistion. Alexander had never known him with his hair so short, it had always been long. The blue handprint on his face, disguised his features, made him look like a cross between the Macedonian soldier, he was, and an Illyrian tribesman.

Alexander put down the empty bowl, and reached up, feeling where his own hair had been shorn, short spikes of hair, to small clumps over his scalp. The wetness of blood from the cut of the shears. He moved his hands down his face, brushing at the blue paste, wanting to be clean of it.

A tribesman, seeing what he was doing, slapped his hands, cursing at him to stop. Others, who had been interested in their share of roasted boar, turned to look momentarily, before grabbing for the cooked flesh.

The doorways were still guarded, they were too far from them to be able to make it without being recaptured. Alexander looked at Hephaistion, he had been thinking the same, calculating their chances of escape.

"At least we are warm, and have been fed," Hephaistion said.

"We have to get away from here," Alexander said, stating what Hephaistion already knew.

Hephaistion nodded. "If you just keep them busy."


	8. Chapter 8

When the eating was done, Alexander and Hephaistion were led to an open space about two thirds down the hall. Two wooden beams were in the ground there, just about fifteen feet apart. Alexander was pushed back against one, forced down, while the ties on his wrists were cut, his arms pulled behind him and then tied once more.

He looked up to see the same happening to Hephaistion, but his feet were also secured in rope shackles.

In the background, Alexander could see the chief and priest deep in conversation, although their words could not be heard.

They were left like this, two men were set as guards, but confident that their prisoners were secure, they drank and ate, throwing a bone to Alexander, then laughing at the joke of it.

The priest came over, standing between the posts, muttering an incantation before heading back to the altar.

"He must be angry that you ruined his fun," Alexander said, still shocked by Hephaistion's changed appearance. He knew he looked no better. Hephaistion's blue eyes shone back at him.

"I think perhaps we should have avoided the village," he replied, and smiled, lifting his feet to test the shackles, to gauge how far he could stride in them, how secure they were.

"Do you think it is too late to invite Ptolemy, Perdiccas and Seleucus to the party?"

"With the Vanguard right behind them," laughed Hephaistion.

One of the guards signalled for them to be quiet, pointing his sword at them, to add to the threat. They sat and watched people go about their business, watched as it became crowded in the hall, then watched people eat and drink their fill, sleeping where they fell.

Finally, Alexander watched as Hephaistion closed his eyes, trying to sleep. He realised they would need their strength, so he closed his eyes and let Morpheus claim him too.

OOXXOO

They had lined up thirty of their strongest men. Some carried swords, others axes, but they all had wooden shields. They had given Alexander a wooden sword, not trusting him with anything else. He held the hilt in his hand, turning it. He had hoped for a proper sword.

He turned to look for Hephaistion. The strongest man in the tribe had hold of him. A plain rope had been placed around Hephaistion's neck, this giant of a man was leading him from it. Hephaistion's hands were tied in front of him and he still wore the shackles on his ankles. It was bitter cold, but all he had to protect him from the chill were boots and his long-sleeved chiton.

Alexander wore the same, but he could move, whereas the giant kept Hephaistion still. There was an cold breeze, Hephaistion was trying to shelter himself behind the bulk of his captor.

Alexander's attention was brought back to the men he had to train, when one of them nudged him with a shield, handing it to him. He stepped forward. The training ground was clear of snow, a mixture of ice and frozen dirt. He moved the wooden sword in his hand, and thirty metal swords copied the movement.

He looked back to Hephaistion again. He did not care to train this army, he wondered how poor a job he could do and get away with it. They relied on numbers, on overwhelming their enemy; not on strategy and good fighting technique. Obviously they realised this, they knew that any Greek army could win battles against them. If they didn't he and Hephaistion would be dead by now.

He went to the first man, showing him a basic move any child could do. The man copied it clumsily. Alexander repeated it, faster this time. The man grinned and launched into an attack. Alexander had to raise his shield, relieved to hear twenty-nine voices calling their comrade to order.

Alexander shook his head, this was not going to be easy.

The first man was just the start. Every time Alexander stepped up the pace, he would face an attack. Their over-enthusiasm and desire to prove themselves the greatest warrior of the tribe, encouraged them to fight as they had always done. After going down the line twice, Alexander was spent.

He dropped to his knees, and put his hands on them, letting go of his toy shield and sword, looking at the dirt and ice, trying to catch his breath. It was too hard to fight with a weapon that wouldn't kill. In battle he would kill and move on, his adrenaline flowing, seeing men fall. Here, they fought, shoved and pushed him and he had to fight until the man was stopped, either physically or verbally by the tribe.

He didn't want to get up. They were pulling at his chiton, pulling him to his feet. The giant appeared with Hephaistion. "No," Alexander gasped, watching as the giant pushed Hephaistion to the ground, his foot deliberately catching in Hephaistion's shackles to trip him. As he hit the ground, the giant kicked Hephaistion in the back and the ribs, then reached down and pulled Hephaistion up on to his knees, gripping the rope around his neck.

"Bastard," complained Hephaistion, moving himself to find relief, grimacing from the pain of the unfair punishment. He looked at Alexander, surprisingly managing a smile. "Keep fighting, Alexander. Keep fighting or let me have a go, and you act as scapegoat for a while. Either that, or if they would give both of us wooden swords perhaps we could make our escape. Do you reckon we could beat them?"

Alexander looked at Hephaistion's shackled feet. "I'm not leaving without Bucephalus," he replied, smiling back at Hephaistion, before reaching for his sword and shield. "Tell them to follow me, not fight me. Tell them I will teach them…..but not everything, they will still die when the time is right."

"You're leaving their hearts exposed."

Alexander nodded. He walked over to Hephaistion, helping him to his feet. "You are cold."

Hephaistion looked at the giant. "Ajax, here, is keeping me warm. So long as he has no ideas, about the night, I will be fine. Go fight, Alexander. Before my ribs get broken."

Alexander embraced Hephaistion, then turned back to the first man once more. As he approached him, Hephaistion spoke up. Alexander smiled, longing for Hephaistion to add on the last part. The time wasn't right just yet.


	9. Chapter 9

After a long day, where Alexander ensured that Hephaistion did not have to endure another beating, they were brought back in to the hall.

Alexander was left untied, and guided to sit at a table. He was aware that he was being watched, but they seemed to know that Hephaistion's welfare guaranteed his good behaviour.

He looked for Hephaistion. The giant, Hephaistion had jokingly referred to as Ajax, still held him by the rope around his neck. He was talking to a woman at the far end of the hall, laughing loudly as she poured him a large cup of whatever it was they drank.

Alexander was thirsty, his body ached. He folded his tired arms on the table and rested his head on them, his eyes half open but wanting to close. He wanted to wake up from this dream and find himself back at Pella, safe in his bed, holding Hephaistion close and realising they were safe. He smiled to think of happier times.

"And what are you looking so happy about?"

Hephaistion was with him. Though for a moment, he was shocked again to see his hair shorn, the blue handprint still covering his face, though not so clear as the day before. He had just pictured him as he had always known him. "I was at Pella," Alexander replied, honestly.

He looked to see Ajax sitting beside Hephaistion, talking with some other tribesmen.

Hephaistion nodded in Ajax's direction. "He is telling them about what a great warrior he was, in his day. Until he got wounded. But he reckons he could still hold his own in battle."

"If he touches you again he is a dead man," Alexander replied, sitting up and stretching. As he did so some broth was put before him, and some fresh bread this time. Hephaistion was also given broth, but no bread.

"They intend keeping your strength up," Hephaistion said, noticing his broth held no meat like Alexander's.

Alexander broke his bread in half, sharing it with Hephaistion. "You need to be kept warm," he said, as a servant brought them a cup of water each. "Are you alright?"

Hephaistion smiled, and glanced at Ajax. "I got worse from Seleucus, and you know that he's better with a sword than in hand-to-hand combat. They worked you hard though."

"I'm exhausted," Alexander admitted, lifting his bowl to his lips and drinking down the broth. "They don't use their ponies for cavalry work. Just to get them to where they will fight. It's a waste, but I'm not teaching them anything they can really use, and they don't suspect it. They're copying what I am doing, but not understanding the reasons why. They're following the moves I make, but not comprehending how they follow on, when to strike and when to defend. It's all brute force and trusting to the fates." He put down the bowl and reached for his cup of water, needing to quench his thirst.

Hephaistion drank some water, then passed the rest to Alexander, realising he needed it more. "How are we going to get away?" he asked, before placing some bread soaked in broth in his mouth.

Alexander shrugged. "Just wait for a moment," he replied, and smiled. "They're keen to watch us, for now. After a while, when we pose no threat, they will relax…look away…and that's when we go."

Ajax turned and spoke to Hephaistion, pulling on the rope around his neck. His hand reached out to pull Hephaistion to him, and his comrades burst out laughing. Then Ajax released him, grinning at Alexander, before turning to call for more drink.

"What was that about?" Alexander asked.

"The Sacred Band," Hephaistion replied, choosing not to elaborate further.

Alexander gazed on Hephaistion, trying to judge, by the look in his eyes, just what had been said. But Hephaistion lifted his bowl to conceal his thoughts. He finished his own broth and bread, but he left some of the meat for Hephaistion, and handed his bowl over. Hephaistion thanked him for it and ate it down.

The guards from the previous night them came for them. Alexander stood, Hephaistion went to follow him, but Ajax pulled him back, talking to the guards, who nodded and signalled for Alexander to go with them.

Alexander turned to Hephaistion. "Why aren't you coming?"

Hephaistion looked down, then bit his lip, before he spoke. "He wants to keep me with him." Seeing Alexander about to react, he put up his hands to take Alexander's. "I don't think it is anything. He has been drinking too much, he is keen to show off to his comrades; to brag of the trust he has been given by the chief, in guarding me."

One of the guards stepped forward, pushing Alexander, who stood his ground.

"Go with them, I will be alright," Hephaistion assured him.

Only then did Alexander go. Allowing himself to be tied to the post, once more. Sitting on the dirt floor, hearing Ajax laugh, sing and boast to all of his friends. Tired as he was, he could not rest. When he saw Ajax slump down by the wall, on a rough bed, securing Hephaistion, turning and holding him, he vowed that Ajax would die by his hand.

He watched as Ajax rested his hand on Hephaistion's hip, pulling him close. When the hand moved to Hephaistion's chest. He pulled on the leather ties, binding him to the post, but relaxed when he heard loud snores coming from Ajax.

Hephaistion looked over at Alexander then, and smiled, reassuring him. He pulled himself forward, free from Ajax's grip, as far as the rope around his neck would allow. He could not free himself from it as Ajax lay across the rope, and it was tight around his neck.

Another tribesman came and stood in front of him, swaying from the drink, he let himself fall to the ground, grunting as he tried to find comfort on the floor. His body blocked Hephaistion's view of Alexander. With a silent prayer to the Gods to aid their escape, he closed his eyes, and tried to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

Alexander was untied early the next morning. He was given a bowl containing scraps of meat and a cup of warm goats milk.

As he ate, he looked over at Hephaistion. He was awake, but Ajax was not.

One of the guards spoke to Alexander, then remembering that he did not speak their language. He went over to Ajax, kicking him awake, talking to him. Ajax grunted and then complained, moving as if to turn over and continue sleeping. The guard kicked him again.

This time Ajax sat up, swatting a big fist at the guard's leg, but missing when the man moved away. He cursed and spat then turned and released the rope that held Hephaistion. The guard took it, pulling Hephaistion up, while Ajax lay back and closed his eyes again.

Speaking to Hephaistion, the guard pushed him over to Alexander. "Joy to you," Hephaistion said and smiled.

Alexander could not help grinning back. They were in the worst predicament they had ever been in in their lives and yet Hephaistion was finding a way to make it seem alright. "Joy to you," he replied, wishing he could hold Hephaistion, wishing for the comfort of touch.

"Some of the men you trained yesterday are going hunting today. They have more men for you to teach."

Alexander sighed. Another day of fending off over eager Illyrians.

Hephaistion laughed. "Apparently, yesterday you trained their elite forces. These men are a little rough around the edges, but some you trained will stay and help."

A woman came over and put a bowl of meat before Hephaistion, a cup of water too. The guard spoke to Hephaistion, and in turn Hephaistion spoke to him."

"He just asked if I had explained. I told him I had, but that you would need to rest if they were to be shown properly. He'll speak to the chief."

Ajax grunted loudly and sat up. Other men came to fetch Alexander. He stood up, then they pulled him, by his arms, wanting him outside. Alexander turned to see Hephaistion eating and drinking what had been put before him, before he disappeared from sight.

If it were possible, it seemed colder than the day before. The sky was a dark grey, the wind seemed sharper.

Alexander wrapped his arms around himself to keep warm, as the men tried to organise themselves. They had their own disputes and grievances to sort out before they would begin training.

He turned to see Hephaistion being led from the hall. Ajax brought him up alongside him.

"It's going to snow," Hephaistion observed, his breath coming in a white mist as he spoke. He involuntarily shivered, and stepped closer to Ajax, once again intending to use him as a shelter.

Alexander was handed his wooden sword and shield by a one of the tribe. This man wore a hat made of rabbit pelts, sewn together, the hat was worn with the fur on the inside, but on the brow the pelt had been turned up to leave a line of brown fur. He turned back to Hephaistion. "How would you like a hat?"

Hephaistion shook his head, looking at the man who had brought the sword. He was short and wiry, older by about ten years, with a scar on his face and several teeth missing. In a fair fight, with Alexander, he would be dead within seconds. But this was not a fair fight and Alexander was in no position to take what was not his.

"Ask him if he cares to gamble," urged Alexander, ignoring the fact that the chosen men were waiting for their lesson to begin. He kept his eyes on the man with the hat, watching how he reacted with the rest of the men, how he moved. Hephaistion had not spoken, he turned back to him. "You believe in me, do you not, Hephaistion?"

Hephaistion spoke, gaining the attention of the man in the hat.

"Tell him that I will beat him. No shields, just my wooden sword against his metal one. Tell him I will have his hat."

Hephaistion's words caused great amusement amongst the tribesmen. They nudged the man, who laughed, looking nervously at Alexander, then grinning as he weighed the sword in his hand. He looked back at Hephaistion and spoke.

"He wants to know what he will get. What can you offer?"

Alexander grinned and held up his left hand. "A finger from my left hand."

"No."

"Tell him," urged Alexander.

Hephaistion spoke again, though even in Illyrian you could hear the reluctance in his voice, as if he were willing the man not to take the bet.

The man considered the offer, looking at Alexander's left hand as if choosing what finger he would take. He spoke. Alexander did not need Hephaistion to interpret his words, as the man stepped forward and stood ready.

The tribesmen gathered round, in eager anticipation of the fight, forming a large circle, calling advice to their comrade. Alexander stepped forward and grinned at the man. He swung the wooden sword in his hand, getting the man's attention, then quickly pulled it back, throwing it over the man's head, into the distance.

The man could not resist. He watched the flight of the wooden sword. Turning back with a grin on his face, to a fist in his face, knocking him to the ground. Alexander stomped on his wrist, freeing the sword, quickly bending down to pick it up and hold the blade at the man's throat.

There were some groans and complaints from the crowd watching, as Alexander pulled the hat off the man's head. He walked away, pushing the metal blade into the icy ground and leaving it. He placed the hat on Hephaistion's head.

"That's better," he smiled, not even breathless from the fight. "It looks better on you," he said.

The man had struggled to his feet and regained his sword. He was complaining bitterly. Ajax spoke loudly, the man backed down, others laughed.

Alexander looked at Hephaistion, he was concerned by something. "What is it?"

Hephaistion hesitated, before speaking. "He just said that it was a fair bet, that the hat was won fairly."

"So it was," agreed Alexander.

Hephaistion looked at Alexander. "He said that it would only be until the next full moon. We are still to be sacrificed, Alexander. They still intend to kill us."

Alexander took in Hephaistion's words, then smiled. "There is time, Hephaistion….and we will be long gone from here before the next full moon." With that he turned and walked away. His wooden sword had been brought back, the new men were ready to learn."


	11. Chapter 11

Ajax soon tired of standing around watching the training. He pulled Hephaistion away and took him around the village, sitting and talking to two older men for a while, about the weather, and then about how when they fought like Greeks they would have more land, more to gain.

One of the older men commented on Hephaistion being handsome, then said that the one training was not offensive to the eye. He wondered if the Sacred Band were chosen for their looks.

Ajax cupped Hephaistion's chin in his large, meaty hand, as if studying him for the first time. He laughed and pushed Hephaistion away saying that he would prefer a woman any time. He did not realise how relieved Hephaistion was to hear it.

Pulling Hephaistion along, he went to the paddock, where the men who were going hunting were fetching their horses. In the background, the chief stood and watched while a couple of his men tried to put a bridle on Bucephalus.

It was a job any groom at Pella could do - those who did not fear the stallion. Bucephalus must have done something to put the Illyrians on their guard, as they feared him now, and sensing this the stallion was playing on it, keeping them at bay by striking out with his hooves.

Hephaistion half expected Ajax to wade in with his usual advice and conviction that he knew the answer to everything, but he stayed back and stayed quiet.

The chief walked away, turning his back and waving his hands, as Philip had, when he had decided the black horse was not worth the money or effort. Alexander had been there to save Bucephalus that day. As the hunting party rode out, the tribesmen with Bucephalus drew their swords.

"Wait!" Hephaistion called out, then turned to Ajax, explaining that the stallion could be handled if you showed no fear.

Shouting out, Ajax pulled Hephaistion in to the paddock, repeating his words but acting as though he had thought of it. It did not matter so long as Bucephalus was not slaughtered.

Ajax was handed the bridle, the chief returned to watch. Hephaistion could sense Ajax's fear, and so was not surprised when Bucephalus obviously could. Ajax pulled his dagger from his belt and cut the ties binding Hephaistion's hands together, handing him the bridle.

Hephaistion smiled. The thought passed through his mind as to how easy it might be to leap onto the stallion's back and go fetch Alexander. If the idea began to seem possible, then it was killed when Hephaistion remembered the rope shackles on his feet.

He spoke to Bucephalus, stepping up to him as he would at any other time. The stallion lowered his head and accepted the bit.

It began to snow. The chief, who might have considered riding the stallion that day, stepped away, this time obviously pleased that the animal could be tamed.

Hephaistion removed the bridle, and stroked Bucephalus' neck, talking gently to him, before his hands were retied in front of him and he was pulled away by Ajax.

This time he was taken to where a man worked at a forge, making swords. It was not unpleasant to stand by the fire while Ajax cursed the weather. The blacksmith poured Ajax a drink, then went back to his work, he pointed with his hammer at Hephaistion, commenting that the Sacred Band were defeated at Chaeronea, that they should have a couple of Macedonians teaching them.

Hephaistion looked away, biting his lip to suppress a smile. If only they knew.

The snow began to fall heavier. Ajax headed back to the training ground to see what was happening. The men shouted out at him, when he appeared, Alexander had stopped to rest, and even though the chief had agreed to it, they wanted him to carry on.

Alexander was on his knees. Ajax released Hephaistion and strode over to him, pulling him up by his chiton. Without giving Alexander the chance to stand by himself, he struck out, knocking him backwards.

Ajax suddenly found himself struck across the neck, then his feet were pulled from under him. He looked up to see Hephaistion standing above him. "You're supposed to strike me. Remember?" Hephaistion said, then translated his words in to Illyrian.

Ajax gave a roar and sat up, intending to fight. Hephaistion's hands formed in to a fist and pulled back intending to strike out, when the tribesmen over powered him and wrestled him to the ground.

Alexander was held at bay by swords, seeing the chief, drawn by the commotion, striding over to them, no doubt asking what had happened as he shouted authoratively.

Trying to kick out at Hephaistion, who was shielded by tribesmen, Ajax yelled above the rest, pointing to Alexander, and then to the rest of the men. The chief spoke to some of them, his face showing his impatience at what they said. He strode over to Alexander, pushing at him, then looking up to the snow-filled sky. The training was abandoned, some of the men moved away.

Still roaring his anger, Ajax was swinging his arms, his hands held together as Hephaistion's had been. The chief raised his voice louder, quietening Ajax. Hephaistion was brought to his feet, the ties holding his hands were cut, then his hands were pulled behind his back and retied. Ajax was handed the rope, and then the chief and the other tribesmen went to the hall with Alexander.

Alexander looked back. Ajax was pulling Hephaistion along behind them. He was tugging on the rope and loudly cursing Hephaistion, but did not go to strike him, the chief had obviously told him he could not.


	12. Chapter 12

Two days of training passed, and then it snowed too hard to do anything.

Alexander and Hephaistion were held in the hall, only released to be taken outside for a short time and then fed. Days were long and they were watched constantly, diligently, it occurred to both of them that this might be because they were promised to the god.

After Hephaistion's attack, Ajax was more cautious with his prisoner, and ensured he was tied to a post at night, not used to warm his bed. Hephaistion's hands were tied behind him at all times, except for when was allowed to eat, though he still had scraps, thin broth and no bread. Alexander shared his own, what there was of it.

When it finally stopped snowing, the training ground was cleared, and the wooden sword and shield handed back to Alexander. The same thirty men stepped forward, ready to learn more, although it was clear by their actions they had already forgotten what they had been taught.

So more days passed.

On a day the training did not end until it was dark. Alexander looked at the moon, judging that their time was running out, and still they had not had a chance to escape.

His body ached constantly, he was always hungry and tired. Though he could not help but smile. He had never been pampered, the cruel regime he suffered during his childhood, had prepared him for this. He wondered if this was a prince's life; he had no comparison.

As he was pushed in to the hall, and looked instantly for Hephaistion, seeing him tied to a post. Ajax was tiring of dragging him around, he had even cut the shackles as Hephaistion's stumbling irritated him.

Alexander went to him, untying him. Just the day before he had done it, fearing Hephaistion would be left without supper. Nobody had stopped him, they had no weapons and were surrounded by tribesmen. They were no danger.

The blue had long gone from Hephaistion's face, so Alexander guessed it had gone from his own. Hephaistion had a beard, so had he. The fur hat hid his short hair, Alexander resented the fact that it had been cut, he should have fought harder, done something to free them both. It had been a mistake to come to Illyria, he should have apologised, returned to Pella. As he thought of Attalus' sneering face he realised he had no choice but to wait for some initial offer of a truce from his father, but perhaps he should have clung to Dodona or thought of heading south.

"You look tired," Hephaistion said, and smiled.

"I feel it," Alexander replied, helping Hephaistion to his feet.

Hephaistion move closer, unable to embrace him and just through that he felt the tiredness leave him, love overwhelming him. He leaned back a little then sought Hephaistion's lips, briefly, before shouts went up from the tribesmen, before he lost himself in desire. He opened his eyes to gaze in to the blue of his loves.

"Remember when we sheltered in that poor excuse of a cave, with a dead rabbit we couldn't cook?" He paused, knowing Hephaistion remembered. "We didn't know how lucky we were then. There might be a time in the future when we remember it, and think fondly on it."

"Like now," Hephaistion replied, resting his chin on Alexander's shoulder. "We are together, no matter what."

Alexander closed his eyes, wishing he could lie all night holding Hephaistion like this. He pulled away, it was not possible.

One of their elected guards came over and untied Hephaistion's hands, Hephaistion dutifully held them before him so they could be secured again.

Alexander reached for Hephaistion's hands, led him to a table and sat down.

"The priest was just here talking to the chief," Hephaistion said, his thumb caressing the back of Alexander's hand. "There was another incantation. He's at the altar now, no doubt praying to their god." He bit his lip. "Perhaps we have less time than we think, Alexander."

"Then we should pray to Zeus and ask him to find a way for us to escape," Alexander said, earnestly.

Hephaistion smiled. "Have you not been doing that?" he asked. "I pray to him each night, not knowing that his son did not."

It was said in such a teasing manner that Alexander laughed. "I'm not telling you what my mother says anymore," he grinned. "You only use it against me. Though, if it were true I would think that Zeus would rescue us."

Hephaistion looked away for a moment, then back to Alexander. "If your father….Philip…if he knew what was happening, do you not think he would be here with the army to rescue you?"

Alexander shrugged his shoulders, too tired to think. "He disowned me."

"He was drunk."

"He sided with Attalus."

Hephaistion sighed. "I have no answer for that…except for the drink. But he loves you. You don't see the way he looks at you when he knows you cannot see him. He would not see you harmed."

Alexander shook his head, then smiled. "The sight of the Macedonian army appearing on that ridge, would be good." He rested his head on his arms and closed his eyes, aware of Hephaistion's hand caressing his back, soothing him. "I miss my father," he murmured.

Bowls of broth were put before them, the bread for Alexander.

Yawning, Alexander sat up, breaking the bread in half and handing a piece to Hephaistion. "I don't know what the fates have in store for us, but I can't think that they intended us as a sacrifice for a barbarian god."

Hephaistion shook his head. "The moon is almost full. Whatever they have planned we need something to happen now."


	13. Chapter 13

By mid-morning of the next day, the training was interrupted by the arrival of about thirty men from another village.

They wore fine clothing, swathed in furs, looking as if they had made the effort to look their best. A young girl was with them, riding by the side of an older man who could only be their chief. The men of this tribe looked about them as they rode in to the centre of the village, trying to show no fear, though their caution was obvious.

Alexander was pushed along, with the men he had been training. They spoke amongst themselves, sounding curious but with a mix of aggression as if they were expecting a fight, that the newcomers were not welcome in their village. Alexander looked for Hephaistion but could not see him.

The newcomers reined in their horses, then dismounted and approached the chief, who had emerged from the crowd, his club in his hand. The priest stood behind him, whispering in his ear, the chief nodded then spoke in greeting, but made no effort to welcome them in to the hall.

Alexander looked for Hephaistion, once more but still could not see him. He stepped back, tribesmen were beside him, hands on their weapons. He stood still and bided his time.

The chief of the new tribe, put his hand around the waist of the girl. She could only have been about sixteen years of age, wearing a white embroidered gown under her fur cloak, her dark hair loose, flowing over her shoulders, it appeared she was being offered as a bride. The chiefs talked loudly, aware that what they said was important to all gathered around them.

Some of the men around Alexander laughed softly, commenting amongst themselves. One made a gesture with his hand, as if they should just snatch the girl away. The new tribe had put themselves in a vulnerable position from the start, it looked as though they were just about to discover their gamble had not paid off.

He suddenly saw Hephaistion, dragged forward by Ajax, on the other side of the crowd. He looked concerned.

The chief raised his voice, the priest calling out, goading him on, the chief of the new tribe looked back towards his men, took the arm of the girl as if to see her out of danger, he opened his mouth to speak but the words never came, as he was struck hard across the head, his skull crushed.

The girl screamed as blood spattered across her dress. One of the newcomers grabbed for her arm, pulling her back. Still screaming, she pulled free and ran in panic, as the tribe rushed forward to battle.

OOXXOO

Alexander had wasted no time, the moment the blow was struck he made his move. He ran over to the paddock, calling to Bucephalus. The fates were kind and he found the bridle quickly, the stallion was keen to go, opening his mouth for the bit.

Leaving the paddock gate open, Alexander leapt on to Bucephalus' back. Glad to be there once more. Gathering the reins, he pushed his horse forward, the loose horses in the paddock going with him, he had to find Hephaistion.

Retreat was not a thing that Alexander ever hoped to have to do. As he rode in to the centre of the village he saw the newcomers fighting, not backing down. For them, retreat would have been the best option, to stay and fight was to stay and be killed. They were outnumbered, each man fighting for his own life.

Alexander saw Hephaistion and knew instantly that he was commanding the newcomers to run, to get to their horses and ride as quickly as possible. It was a command Alexander had every intention of following. In his element, he kicked out at any tribesman trying to stop him, and made his way to Hephaistion.

Ajax had a hold of him, he was behind the tribesmen, Ajax was shouting now, rallying the men to their slaughter. But the newcomers had listened to Hephaistion and the few remaining were going to their horses.

Hephaistion saw Alexander, smiling to see him on Bucephalus. Ajax saw him too and pulled him back calling out to the others, Hephaistion struggled to break free but could not. Alexander went to move Bucephalus forward, to come to the rescue.

"The girl!" Hephaistion shouted. "Alexander! Save the girl!"

Alexander would wonder, years later, why it was that he obeyed. Hephaistion was surrounded by tribesmen, all ready to attack, but he would have chanced it, died trying if necessary. The girl was nothing, except Hephaistion wanted her saved.

He turned Bucephalus and looked to see the girl struggling up the hill, trying to run fast with her gown, cloak and the snow slowing her. Men were chasing her on foot, intent on catching her.

Galloping forward, Alexander gained ground quickly, riding down some of the men and to shouts of protest he lifted her up in to his arms. She gave a cry and fought against him so he struggled to hold her. Alexander was aware of another rider, one from the new tribe, riding after him, sword drawn.

Not speaking the language and unarmed, he directed Bucephalus to go in the direction of the fleeing men. As soon as he reached the forest he released the girl, who stepped back, bewildered.

He had turned Bucephalus, intending to go back for Hephaistion when he heard a cry from the solitary rider, who had just caught up. Alexander looked at him, and the tribesman smiled and threw his sword so that Alexander could catch it.

Nodding his gratitude, he galloped back to the village, trying to locate where Hephaistion was now. He saw him with Ajax, who was dragging him back to the hall. Hephaistion was fighting him all the way, kicking out, dropping his body to the floor to make it harder for Ajax to pull him along.

Ajax was shouting, calling tribesmen to help him. A few answered the call as Alexander reached the outskirts of the village, he gave a war cry, sounding the paeon and pushed Bucephalus to Ajax at full tilt.

Most of them, never having seen a cavalry horse and rider approach like this, scattered. But Ajax pulled Hephaistion up, holding him by the neck, intent on making him a shield. Alexander held up the sword, knowing where to strike a killing blow but before he got there Ajax gave a roar of pain and collapsed. Hephaistion had managed to find his dagger in his belt, and even with his hands tied behind him had taken it, turned it and thrust it home.

As Ajax released the rope, Hephaistion ran to Alexander, his hands coming free, as he turned the blade to cut his bonds. He reached up and leapt behind Alexander.

Some tribesmen rushed forward, but Alexander swung the sword catching two on each side, then Bucephalus plunged forward, weaving through the village until they came to open ground and headed off towards the forest.

Hephaistion laughed, his hands lightly holding Alexander's waist. They had their freedom once again and it felt good.


	14. Chapter 14

They rode, at a gallop, in to the forest, then Alexander had to slow to a canter as they manoeuvred around the trees. They ducked under branches, the icy snow falling upon them, keen to put as much distance as they could between themselves and the village. Hephaistion wrapped his arms around Alexander, resting his head upon his shoulder, the fur from his hat giving warmth.

Alexander had hoped to find tracks from the new tribe that they could follow but there were none to be seen. He had followed his previous route, or so he thought and he cursed himself for misjudging the distance, for choosing the wrong track. So, all he could do now was steer Bucephalus through the forest and make ground, not stop and search for them. Perhaps it was not such a bad thing, after what they had just been through, Alexander felt he had done with Illyrians.

After a time, they came across a fast-flowing brook, and Hephaistion pulled on Alexander's chiton and asked him to stop for a moment. He jumped down and walked carefully down a slope, to the water's edge, pulling off the remains of the rope binding around his wrist, and taking the hated noose from around his neck, throwing it aside before cutting himself free of the shackles, looking up and smiling at Alexander as he was finally rid of all the trappings of his captivity. He crouched down and put his left hand in to the water, gasping as he felt its icy grip, biting his lip as he held it there.

"What is it?" Alexander asked, jumping down from Bucephalus, walking over to him, trusting the stallion to stay put.

Hephaistion stood up, looking at his hand, there was a deep cut on his palm, underneath his thumb, blood welled up from it. "I cut my left hand when I turned the dagger. I've sliced it, but it isn't much." He used the dagger to cut the hem of his chiton, as best he could, so as to make a bandage from it." He glanced up at Alexander. "You do realise the trouble we are in?"

Alexander looked around the forest. It was quiet, except for when a clump of snow would fall from a tree. Snow lay on the ground, and though the sun peered through the branches there was no sign of a thaw. The air was chill and it would only get colder as the sun set.

"We were struggling before," Hephaistion continued, without waiting for Alexander to reply. "But now we have no furs to keep us warm, no way of hunting, no way to light a fire…" Hephaistion let his voice trail off, concentrating on tying a knot in the makeshift bandage.

"And possibly a tribe wanting blood for their god looking for us," Alexander added.

Stepping over to the edge of the brook, he crouched down and washed his face. "What if we head back to Dodona? That seems the best plan." He turned, and took the dagger from Hephaistion, who had instantly understood what he required. Wetting his face again, he began to shave.

Hephaistion crouched down by Alexander, looking across at him and smiling. "You always hate it when your beard grows," he said softly. He sighed, looking at the water, watching it flow by. "We might as well try to reach Dodona as anywhere. We can get water, and we have gone hungry before. We will just have to hope to find shelter on the way, and pray it does not snow for a few days yet." He reached up and his cold fingers, ran through Alexander's hair. "Surviving the nights will be our problem," he whispered.

Alexander finished shaving his face, and Hephaistion took the dagger back, washed his face and then began to shave. Alexander went to Bucephalus, who stood quietly. He spoke gently to the stallion, asking for his strength to get them to safety.

He shivered against the cold.

Hephaistion stood up. He turned and looked at Alexander and walked up the slope towards him, embracing him. Feeling Alexander shiver, he pulled off his hat and placed it on Alexander's head and grinned. "We can share it," he said. "I think you are colder than I am, at the moment."

This time, Alexander's hand ran through Hephaistion's hair. It fell in soft layers, highlighted by the winter sun but only came down to his neck now, no further. He had loved to twist it around his fingers, to see it framing Hephaistion's face, falling down his back.

"It will grow again," Hephaistion murmured.

"We should have been more careful," Alexander said.

Hephaistion nodded in reply, then kissed Alexander, before stepping away. "We'd best get going," he said, watching as Alexander leaped on to Bucephalus' back, then reached for him.

There was a comfort in being together. They said nothing more as they rode along, both aware that their dreams of the future might be lost to the cold, on a bitter Illyrian night.


	15. Chapter 15

Late afternoon they began to search for shelter. Coming over the rise of a hill, they saw open land before them, cold and inhospitable. By the trees scattered along the edge of it, they could tell it was a frozen lake.

"Do you think it is the one Stegran talked of?" asked Alexander.

Hephaistion closed his arms tighter around Alexander's waist, consciously seeking more warmth. "It could be, then again it might not. Epirus still seems like the best place to head for. But we could stop here and decide what to do in the morning."

Alexander put his hand on Hephaistion's thigh, and turned and smiled. He felt too cold to move and he knew Hephaistion felt the same. Bucephalus needed to rest, though, he couldn't carry the two of them constantly. He slowly lifted his right leg over Bucephalus' neck and slid down, groaning as his ankles jarred on the frozen ground. Turning, he saw Hephaistion lowering himself off Bucephalus, careful not to suffer the same fate.

A fallen tree trunk seemed to provide the best shelter. Tying Bucephalus to a young tree, Alexander helped Hephaistion gather small branches to form a base that they could lie on, with some protection from the snow.

It warmed them a little to keep busy like this. When they had collected enough, they began to look for larger branches, which had fallen from the trees. Something to prop against the tree trunk to give a little more shelter. When they had done, they did not have much, but it was better than before.

"If we just rest for a while, then Bucephalus will be able to carry us again," Alexander said. "It's best if we keep going, cover as much ground as possible."

Hephaistion nodded his head, then taking Alexander's hand guided him to lie down beside him. The branches were wet and uncomfortable, and so they held on to each other for warmth. Hephaistion laughed. "I don't think there will be a time when we look back on this with fond memories. If we make it back to Epirus I will have the largest fire in my room and bury myself beneath the furs until the Spring."

Alexander moved himself, so that a twig was no longer sticking in his ribs. "And plates of meat, hot and roasted, more than you can eat," he added. Laughing as Hephaistion's stomach answered loudly to the suggestion.

Hephaistion shivered, and Alexander pulled off the fur hat and placed it on love's head. "It's your turn," he said, kissing Hephaistion's cold lips, and thinking of what he would like to do, if they were at Epirus with the fire blazing and warm furs to lie under.

Bucephalus stomped his hoof, and gave a low snort.

"I think he agrees about the furs and fire," Alexander said. But Hephaistion was propping himself up on his elbows and looking in to the forest.

"Someone's coming," he whispered.

Alexander listened, and at first could hear nothing, then the sound of a horse approaching slowly. He reached for the sword, aware that Hephaistion held the dagger.

Another horse approached, from a slightly different direction. Two men speaking could be heard, though their words were not clear enough for Hephaistion to understand. Then a girls voice. Alexander and Hephaistion looked at each other, then in an unspoken agreement they crawled out of their den and stood up, stepping forward to see two men from the new tribe, one with the girl riding behind him.

The one with the girl spoke as he rode over to them. It was the one who had given Alexander his sword.

Hephaistion replied briefly, and then the young warrior spoke again. The other man with him, a giant like Ajax, just watched the conversation and contributed nothing.

"He's thanking us. He's been tracking us through the snow, he said it took him a while to catch up with Bucephalus….and he wants his sword back."

The tribesman spoke to the one who had stayed silent, the man found his voice and nodded before riding away.

Alexander looked at the sword in his hand, reluctant to let it go, but he walked over to the young Illyrian and handed it back with a word of gratitude he hoped conveyed more in its tone. The warrior replied, then signalled for the girl to get down, before dismounting himself.

"His name is Brandor," Hephaistion translated. "He's asking how we thought we would survive the night like this. That it will snow again by morning."

As Hephaistion spoke to Brandor, the girl took some of the bedding they had collected and set about making a fire from it. With the wood being damp it took a little while, but even the first flame was welcome for the warmth it gave.

"The other man, Talis, has gone for the rest of the men. They are just a days ride from their village and they say we would be welcome to go with them. They do not have much but Brandor heard me shout and then saw you save Shanna, and for this, they are willing to share."

"They don't have a god who needs a sacrifice, do they?" Alexander asked, and smiled.

As he spoke the rest of the tribesmen, the survivors, arrived. Some saw to their horses, some built up the fire, while others made camp, producing meat for roasting and making a bean stew. They smiled and nodded at Alexander and Hephaistion, giving them furs to wrap around themselves to keep warm and when they eventually sat around the fire and ate, asked question after question about their life with the other tribe, and told dark tales from the past.

They did not seem interested in Alexander or Hephaistion's past, just how they had been treated. The tribe they had been held by were called the Glaucini, they were known as the Therici tribe. The Glaucini had come from the north, only two years previously and taken the land from them, then taken what they could from other tribes. They were fearsome, and the past two winters had been difficult for all the tribes in the area while the Glaucini thrived.

Their chief, Fladon, had made the decision to offer his oldest daughter, Shanna, in marriage to the chief of the Glaucini. The chief's word was law with the Therici, and nobody had objected, but now that he was dead they felt free to air their thoughts, even though Shanna now sat quietly among them.

The chief had one son, Grayroc, who had remained back at their village, and one other daughter, Tayanor. After a suitable mourning time they would elect a new leader. It was not always the right of the son to inherit.

Hephaistion smiled at the light that ignited in Alexander's eyes, when he translated it back to him. If ever there was a man in search of a kingdom it was Alexander.

"You are not Illyrian, Alexander," he said, and smiled at him.

"Do you have to be?" Alexander asked, earnestly.

Hephaistion looked back to the tribe, now agitatedly talking amongst themselves, then he laughed. "It seems Fendor, Dalgon or Galadian, might have some objections. They seem to be the favourite candidates at the moment. The son, Grayroc, is thought too weak to lead."

Alexander smiled. "Perhaps, we should not be in such a hurry to go to Epirus."

Hephaistion shook his head and grinned. "I can see how a stranger, who can't even speak the language, would be the perfect choice for chief."

Alexander grinned back. "Ah, but I have you by my side, and together we can achieve anything."

Some of the men went to collect more wood, to build the fire up before they slept. Alexander and Hephaistion went with them, wanting to show willing, to repay them for sharing their food…for saving them.

When they returned, carrying bundles of the driest wood they could find, they stacked it by the fire, then with the rest, lay down around it.

Alexander spooned himself around Hephaistion, holding him close. He saw Talis look over at him, saw him grin and say 'grecon'. He nudged Hephaistion. "What does 'grecon' mean?" he whispered.

"Greek," Hephaistion replied. "Now get to sleep, Alexander…Chief of the Therici."

"It sounds good," Alexander replied, then, getting an elbow in the ribs from Hephaistion he said no more.


	16. Chapter 16

At first light the next morning, they awoke to snow and prepared to head to the Therici village.

While Alexander fetched Bucephalus, Hephaistion watched the tribesmen fetch their horses. There were fifteen men left from the delegation that had approached the Glaucini.

Brandor pulled at the sleeve of his chiton, speaking as he pushed a another fur in to Hephaistion's hands. Hephaistion turned to see that Alexander already had been given one to give extra warmth as he brought Bucephalus along. "They have spare horses that came with them, Brandor wants me to go and pick one" he translated, in a way sad that he could not ride with Alexander, they had been denied each other's touch for so long.

He wiped his sleeve along his brow, the fire had made him hot, he guessed he had grown too used to being cold, the snow falling on his skin felt good to him. He followed Brandor and broke in to a grin as he saw Briseis standing amongst the horses. He went to the mare, checking her over. Brandor asked if she was his, and Hephaistion nodded in reply.

Brandor fetched a rope, fashioning it into a bridle, adjusting it to fit Briseis, then handed her to Hephaistion. He was surprised not to have had to argue for the return of his mare, someone like Stegran would have most likely claimed ownership.

Giving his thanks, he leapt on to the mare, then rode her over to Alexander, who turned and grinned himself to see Hephaistion reunited.

"So you don't need to ride with me today?" Alexander asked, regretting the loss himself.

Hephaistion held out his right hand, then leaned down to kiss Alexander, one that conveyed his longing.

Brandor's friend, Talis, rode by at that very moment. "Grecon,' he said, and shrugged and laughed, as if understanding it was inevitable that two Greek men would take pleasure from each other.

"We should tell them we are Macedonian, before they mistake us for the Sacred Band as well," smiled Alexander, before turning to get on to Bucephalus.

OOXXOO

They rode down towards the frozen lake, going around it, heading east. Going up in to the hills before coming down a long valley, then at a river they turned right to ride along it.

Alexander rode along with Hephaistion, not talking much, just curious to see where they would end up. The snow had not stopped, but it fell gently enough as there was no wind to stir it up. The tribesmen made some comments, that Hephaistion did not bother to translate, he seemed cold, even with the fur wrapped around him. He wore the fur hat, which framed his face perfectly, Alexander decided that it was worth putting up with the cold just to see Hephaistion as he was, in furs with snow softly alighting on them. He wondered where they might sleep that night, he hoped it was somewhere secluded, it had been so long.

By mid afternoon Brandor rode back to them, pointing ahead and then sweeping his hand across the horizon, smiling broadly before heading back to the front of the line.

"This is their land," Hephaistion replied, then suddenly reined Briseis to a halt.

"What's wrong?" Alexander asked, alarmed to see Hephaistion bend forward, breathing hard.

Hephaistion shook his head, then allowed himself to slide from his mare. "I feel sick." He let go of the reins and took a couple of paces forward before collapsing to his knees, putting his hands out on the snowy ground before him, he began to heave.

Alexander was by his side in moments, holding him around the waist, rubbing his back. Brandor cantered back to them, pulling his horse to a stop, jumping down and calling for Talis, halting the rest of the tribe.

Hephaistion was sick, then heaved a little, before he felt he could be helped to his feet. As Alexander pulled him up, Talis came over. He held Hephaistion's face between his strong hands, studying it, while Hephaistion assured him he was well, but he spoke in Macedonian, not Illyrian.

Talis grunted and reached for Hephaistion's left hand, pulling off the bandage, asking him questions, that he nodded to give the answers to. Hephaistion laughed softly, then looked up at the sky and made a remark about Apollo, that Alexander could not understand.

Alexander turned himself, to stand in front of Hephaistion, still holding him but needing his attention. "What is it?" he asked.

"He thinks the blade was poisoned," Hephaistion replied.

"And how long have you been feeling like this?"

"I was hot this morning…I thought it was the fire…that was all. But during the day it has got worse. I hoped to make it to the village." He heaved again, falling to his knees once more, he had been starved by the Glaucini and his empty stomach had little to give, though he wretched violently, his body shaking with the effort. As the nausea subsided he stayed as he was, almost too weak to move.

This time Talis brushed Alexander away and lifted Hephaistion up in to his arms. Brandor had been giving orders, Shanna took off at a gallop with four of the men. Talis signalled for Alexander to get on Bucephalus. When he did, he passed Hephaistion up to him, as if he weighed nothing. Brandor shouted, pointing the direction they should go. He was keen to hurry and watched Alexander as the horses progressed from a fast walk, to a trot, and then to a steady canter. Obviously deciding that Alexander could safely hold Hephaistion at this pace, he went forward and led the way.


	17. Chapter 17

It seemed to take an eternity for them to reach the village. When Alexander arrived he saw that it was half the size of that of the Glaucini, and judging by the people who watched them ride in, it was not doing half so well either. Cries went up, distress at so few returning, people stepping forward calling out.

Alexander's attention turned back to Hephaistion. He had kept the fur pulled tightly around him, aware of Hephaistion's gaze upon him as they rode. His face was flushed, he was too quiet, not even a word to assure him that things would be well.

Now, Talis came to fetch him, Shanna was there watching as Talis lifted Hephaistion down and held him securely in his arms before following the girl in to the hall. Alexander jumped down from Bucephalus, hurrying after them hearing Talis call out as they walked along, the hall was filled with tables and benches, like that of Stegran's, that of the Glaucini.

Shanna led the way through a doorway straight ahead, which entered in to a large room, two older women and three young girls were already there, as well as four men from the village, one of them looking like the male version of Shanna. Alexander guessed this was Grayroc, he spoke to Shanna, his voice sounding resentful, Shanna cut him off and pulled back furs on a large bed in the middle of the room, so that Talis could lay Hephaistion down. She pushed a pillow under his head and ran a hand along his face, smiling at him.

Alexander looked around the room, which was dimly lit by sconces on the wall, there was a fire burning in a stone hearth and its warmth made the room pleasant. There were weapons upon the wooden wall, two shields propped against a wooden chest and Alexander guessed that this was the dead chief Fladon's room and that was why Grayroc was objecting. They were giving them their best when they had so little themselves.

He went to Hephaistion, sitting by him, taking his right hand. He did not want to show any weakness in front of these men, and yet the thought of losing Hephaistion was too much for him to consider. He reached out, pulling off the fur hat that he had won, seeing Hephaistion in days at Pella with his long hair tousled from their love-making, laughter in his lapis eyes and on his lips, then the vision cleared to show him Hephaistion so sick before him.

Talis came round to the other side of the bed, taking Hephaistion's left hand, he uncurled the fingers to show Alexander the wound was red and inflamed. A scab had formed but there was infection underneath. Alexander did not need to know the language to understand that it needed treating. Talis turned and took a bowl of warm water from one of the older women. He placed Hephaistion's hand in to the water and held it there, talking to Alexander before he remembered that he could not understand and turned his attention back to Hephaistion's care.

Hephaistion had been gazing on Alexander, but had turned away to look at the wound, then to watch Talis. Now, he turned back to Alexander. "Don't worry," he murmured.

"Don't leave me alone." Alexander pleaded, his voice barely a whisper.

Hephaistion smiled but did not reply, he shivered a little and looked towards the fire burning brightly in the stone hearth.

"It's just as you wanted, Hephaistion," Alexander said, smoothing back Hephaistion's short hair, trying to hold back the tears that formed in his eyes. Hephaistion's face was hot, some tendrils were stuck to his cheek. "You have the fire….and the furs. Just what you wanted."

Hephaistion turned back to Alexander. "If the god takes me, and not you, then I will be glad, Alexander," he said, tears coming to his eyes.

"Don't talk like that," Alexander chided him softly, forcing a smile and wiping away a tear that fell.

Hephaistion's face had gone pale, he did not reply, but struggled up and began to heave. Talis did not give a chance for Alexander to act, he quickly moved the bowl of water, emptying its contents on the dirt floor, before bringing it back to Hephaistion and holding him up while he was sick once more.

"Ey," Talis grunted at Alexander, then signalled for him not to talk.

Alexander understood. Talking was making Hephaistion sick.

A woman came in to the room carrying a cloth pad, with a green paste steaming on it. She spoke to Talis, who pulled out his dagger, then cut in to Hephaistion's wound. Hephaistion flinched but kept quiet. Blood and pus erupted from the cut and the woman brought over the pad, which Talis took from her and placed across Hephaistion's palm. Another woman passed a bandage and the hand was bound tightly enough to hold the poultice in place. Talis fetched a cup and held it to Hephaistion's lips, gently encouraging him to drink down the entire contents.

Shanna came and sat down by Alexander. She held a damp cloth, and gently wiped Hephaistion's face and neck, speaking softly, almost songlike. Hephaistion's eyes closed as he drifted in to sleep.

Alexander wanted to stay, but the men pulled him up, putting their arms around his shoulders, they insisted he went with them in to the hall. Alexander looked over his shoulder to see that Shanna was overseeing Hephaistion's care, and he understood that here it was seen as a woman's duty to nurse the sick. He went with them, determined not to stay away too long.


	18. Chapter 18

Led in to the hall, Alexander was guided to a table where several of the men who had journeyed with them, sat now drinking from wooden cups.

The mood was solemn, whatever these men and their chief had hoped for when they set off to meet with the Glaucini, the worst had happened. Their chief was lost to them, not even a body to pay their respects to, to offer to the safekeeping of their gods.

Some women stood against the wall, holding young children to them, who in turn hugged onto their mothers thighs and stared at the men as if afraid that their failure meant their doom.

Brandor patted Alexander on the back and encouraged him to sit amongst them, offering a cup of mulled wine, some bread and cheese.

Alexander looked back towards the chief's room. Without Hephaistion he was mute; without Hephaistion he was lost.

Brandor spoke to him, but he could not understand. Brandor spoke again, this time nudging him and pointing to the chief's room, miming the action of removing a bandage from his hand, slicing it, then placing a poultice. His other hand moved like a claw over the other, slowly dragging away, and Alexander understood that Brandor was telling him the poultice would draw the poison. It was something he already knew but he was happy to comprehend in sign language, if nothing else.

He ate the food. The time spent with the Glaucini had affected him, he saved half for Hephaistion, as he had done while held captive. Only when he realised he had no need to share, did he finish the contents of his plate.

He stood up, one of the men signalled for him to sit down, but he pointed to the door outside and they let him go.

It was snowing. Alexander wandered over to where crude wooden stables stood, stepping inside to see horses standing in wooden pens, eating a poor quality hay. He found Bucephalus alone, happily eating what he had been given, and then he saw Briseis amongst some others.

He climbed over to the mare, going to her and stroking her firm neck, while she tugged, at the hay in the manger, and ate.

Needing whatever comfort he could find, he rested his head against the mare. Tears came to his eyes in the quiet of the stables. "What if we lose him?" he murmured, then he closed his eyes tightly and turned his face into the neck of the mare, full of fear, but not wanting to submit to it. "What if we lose him?" he asked again, as if daring himself to face his greatest fear. He swallowed hard, forcing down the idea that there could be a world without Hephaistion in it.

Releasing the mare, he climbed out of the pen and made his way back to the hall. Striding along, past the people gathered there, past the people gathered at tables talking in low tones, and in to the chief's room.

He found three women in the process of removing Hephaistion's clothing, having already removed his cavalry boots which now lay in a pile on the floor. It would have been funny, if Hephaistion were not so ill, a payback for Hephaistion's joke on him at Stegran's village.

Hephaistion's right hand was raised, as if trying to stop them. Alexander went to him, pulling back the women, who now held the chiton.

Alexander went to grab for it, but Talis was right behind him and got there first. "Ey!" he shouted, taking the chiton and walking over to the fire with it.

"Don't," Alexander ordered, but then saw that Talis was just holding it, warming the fabric, causing the dampness within the fibres to rise as steam. The cloth was damp, they had removed it to make Hephaistion more comfortable, so that he did not catch a chill to weaken him further.

Alexander turned back to see the women, already dressing Hephaistion in a light blue, embroidered tunic and some brown leggings, tied at the waist with a cord. One of the older woman made a comment, which the other women laughed at.

Talis made a comment back to them and the older woman shook her head, while she pulled the furs back over Hephaistion, then gently patted Hephaistion's face, before going to Talis and pulling at his beard and playfully slapping his belly.

Alexander went to Hephaistion's side, sitting on the bed and taking his right hand.

Hephaistion's eyes flashed open for a moment, then closed again. "Alexander," he whispered and softly squeezed the hand that held his own.

Talis crouched down beside him and put his fingers to his lips, signalling that he should be quiet. He reached over and pulled the furs tighter around Hephaistion, then stood up, patting Alexander on the shoulder before he left the room, calling the women to follow to leave them on their own.

Alexander had so many things he wanted to say to Hephaistion, but he held himself in check. He sat in silent vigil, studying every part of Hephaistion's face, preserving it in his memory as he had done so many times before, when his love lay sleeping and it was still a long time to the dawn. He longed for those blue eyes to open, and stare on him, laughter-filled for catching him in open adoration.

One of the women came back into the room, carrying a dark blue tunic, embroidered with light blue thread, and a pair of black leggings. She held them out to Alexander, to tell him they were for him, then placed them on the bed and left the room.

With his left hand, Alexander felt his chiton, realising it was damp. He stood up, then stripped off his clothing and kicked off his boots, picking them up and placing them by the fire. He was just about to step in to the leggings when he noticed Hephaistion's eyes on his, and smiled to see that laughter was held in them.

Alexander held up the leggings. "You are already wearing some," he informed him, then stepped into them, pulling them up and tying them at the waist, while Hephaistion shifted a little, then looked surprised.

Alexander sat beside him, taking his hand once more. "How do you feel?"

Hephaistion sighed, then shivered, before pulling his hand away from Alexander and trying to push the furs away. "My head aches…I am hot," he murmured, "I feel sick."

"Don't talk, Hephaistion," Alexander replied softly, taking his hand so that the furs would stay wrapped around him. "Just rest and get well…for me."

Hephaistion needed no further encouragement. He gave a deep sigh and drifted back to sleep.

Alexander reached back for the tunic, and put it on, feeling its warmth against his skin. He stood up, walking around to the other side of the bed, lifting the furs to slide in alongside his sick lover. Wrapping his arm gently around Hephaistion's waist, he nestled up against him, closed his eyes and felt sleep claim him too.


	19. Chapter 19

When Alexander woke the next morning, it was first to surprise at his surroundings and then to fear that Hephaistion might have been taken while he slept. He sat up, to find that Hephaistion still slept, then he saw a figure standing in the doorway and automatically reached for a dagger, only to realise he was unarmed.

It was Grayroc. He stepped forward and spoke, while Alexander stood up and watched his progress across the room, tried to judge his tone by the look upon his face and could only guess that he spoke with disdain. He looked to Hephaistion, wishing he were well enough to translate what Grayroc was saying.

Grayroc waited for Alexander's reply, when it did not come, he spoke louder as if he could make Alexander understand that way.

Shanna appeared and spoke to Grayroc, who laughed at Alexander, then pointed to Hephaistion, lifting his hand to signal that it was Hephaistion who spoke their language.

Alexander nodded. Shanna had gone over to Hephaistion, she reached to touch his face and murmured something to him.

Grayroc went over to a window that Alexander had not noticed. He unbarred it and pushed back wooden shutters to let morning light and cold air stream into the room. As he did this he cursed and Shanna turned and spoke just as harshly to him.

Talis only echoed her words when he walked into the room carrying a bowl of warm water. Grayroc stood defeated and closed the window, he spoke loudly, mentioned his father's name, then ignored by both Talis and his sister he stormed out of the room, glaring at Alexander as he walked by.

Alexander shook his head. If he had been handed the chance to prove himself by his father's murder, then he would take it, not act like a spoilt child who should be given the world.

Talis went over to Hephaistion and dropped down on to the side of the bed. He gave Hephaistion's face a gentle tap. "Ey!" he snapped, then slapped Hephaistion's face a little harder, forcing the blue eyes to open. Then, as he had done the day before he studied Hephaistion's face, before reaching for the bandage and pulling it off. He signalled for Alexander to come over, and held the hand open so that he could see the pus coming from the wound, but he grinned as if this were a good thing.

Hephaistion was drifting back into sleep, but Talis would not allow it. "Ey," he called again and tapped Hephaistion's face once more, before lifting up the bowl of water and placing Hephaistion's hand in it.

Hephaistion's eyes went to shut, once more, but flickered open and sought Alexander. "Don't let him keep hitting me," Hephaistion complained.

"Then stay awake," Alexander grinned, buoyed up by Talis' mood on seeing the wound. "How do you feel?"

"Tired," Hephaistion replied. "Hot," he added, as an afterthought. He closed his eyes and then forced them open, looking at Talis as if considering how close he might have come to being slapped again. "He is like Ajax," he said.

"How far did you push the blade in to him?" Alexander asked. "I hope he has been killed by the poison he put on his own dagger."

Hephaistion smiled, then turned to watch as Talis lifted his hand from the water, then called for a woman who had come in with a fresh poultice and a bowl of broth. He took the poultice from her and tied it firmly to Hephaistion's hand. Talis turned then to lift Hephaistion against his chest, propping him upright, while he took the bowl of broth from the woman and held it to Hephaistion's lips.

Hephaistion was reluctant to drink the broth down, but with Talis practically forcing the bowl against his lips, he had no choice. Once he started drinking it, Talis did not pull the bowl away until the contents were gone. He dropped the empty bowl to the floor and then began to rub a slow circle, along Hephaistion's chest, down to his stomach, then back up to his chest, then repeated the action.

"My father used to do this whenever my stomach pained me," Hephaistion said, but was then shushed by Talis.

"You need strength to fight the poison," replied Alexander.

Hephaistion shivered and rested his head back against Talis' shoulder, while he struggled to beat back the nausea he was feeling. He studied the roof, noting how it had been constructed and what materials had been used to line it. Simple straw and mud, baked by the warmth of the room. Thinking too hard on the construction made him feel nauseous again so he sought Alexander.

Brandor appeared with a bowl of stew and handed it to Alexander. He spoke to Talis, then pointed to Alexander.

"Talis says I have a fifty-fifty chance of surviving," Hephaistion translated, before being shushed by Talis again. He smiled at Alexander, and then his eyes closed, stealing a few seconds of rest.

But Talis seemed keen for Hephaistion to sleep now, and lowered him gently down to the pillow, still rubbing soothing circles, until he was sure that Hephaistion was asleep.

Brandor fetched Alexander's boots and handed him a long fur cloak, before signalling he should follow. Thinking that Hephaistion appeared a little better, that he might only be gone while he slept, he followed him outside.


	20. Chapter 20

Brandor intended for them to go hunting. He made his way over to the stables, where eight men were preparing their horses.

Bucephalus called to Alexander as he saw him approach, then pranced on the spot and shook his head, eager to be set free. Brandor grinned and handed Alexander his stallion's bridle, encouraging him to put it on, though Alexander only wanted to stay close to Hephaistion.

He fastened the bridle on, then led Bucephalus outside. The stallion bowed down, a trick that Alexander had taught him, and the men grunted their amusement. One of them handed Alexander a javelin, and then they headed off, through the snow.

Alexander had always loved to hunt, it always focussed his mind, but this time, as he watched the village disappear from sight, his thoughts were only with Hephaistion. He had even chances of surviving. To Alexander the odds were not good enough.

Brandor encouraged him on and they headed, at a gallop towards a distant valley. Alexander looked up at the pale sun and judged that they were heading towards the Glaucini territory once more. The Therici were obviously up to taking chances.

He began to study the men, like he would to any new recruits in the Vanguard. They rode well, and worked well together. Alexander heard the name Dalgon called, and remembered it as one that Hephaistion had said would be seeking to take over as chief.

Alexander looked to the man and smiled to see that he looked like Parmenion. The man's beard was grey, his eyes deep-set, seeming as if he smiled too little. He had a scar across his cheek and appeared to be attempting to lead the hunting party although he had to shout his orders two or three times before any of the others listened to him.

Grinning, Alexander turned Bucephalus to follow the group to a forest. He rode alongside Brandor who managed to signal that they would only be gone for the day, no longer. Alexander nodded his understanding. Talis was not with them, and Talis seemed to know what he was doing when it came to Hephaistion's care.

Coming through the forest, they came to an open area and spread out to look for tracks. Alexander was surprised that they had not brought dogs with them, then remembered that they were no doubt on land where the Glaucini hunted and there would be no point in announcing your arrival any earlier than you had to.

He looked over at Dalgon, seeing a mix of apprehension and pride on his face. If he could return to the village with some game then it would no doubt improve his standing in the tribe. As if giving up the idea of hunting in the open, Dalgon signalled for them to head back in to the forest, pushing his horse into a canter to make sure he led the way.

Alexander looked back, the open area they had been riding over seemed to be another frozen lake, he wondered for an instant at how it would look in the summer months, if this land ever saw the sun for long. Alexander reined in Bucephalus as his eye caught riders on the other side of the lake. Glaucini, a hunting party, who by the looks of it had been having more luck with finding game.

Giving a low whistle, to attract Brandor's attention, he pointed to the hunting party, then backed Bucephalus up and moved slowly so as not to attract any unnecessary attention. Apollo was favouring them and the sun would have shielded them from sight. He followed Brandor to the rest of the group.

Dalgon listened while Brandor explained, then shook his head and pointed in a direction that would lead them back to the village.

They needed the food and Alexander knew of a way they could get it. He reached over to get Brandor's notice and quickly signalled what needed to be done. Without waiting for Dalgon's acceptance, hearing Brandor relaying the instructions, Alexander pushed Bucephalus through the forest and into a gallop across the lake.

He rode towards the Glaucini as if he had not seen them, then when he judged the distance was right he looked up and halted sharply, reining Bucephalus around almost immediately he headed back in the direction he had just come, looking over his shoulder and laughing as he saw the Glaucini push their horses forward to follow.

As he had guessed, not one man chose to stay behind to protect the boar and deer they had killed. They dropped it and went in pursuit, each man eager to prove his worth.

"Come and get me for your god!" cried Alexander, swearing to Zeus and Apollo that this sacrifice, of the Glaucini, would be for them, if they would only save Hephaistion.

He reached the forest and looked ahead to find where he had to go. Pushing Bucephalus up a slope, proud that the black stallion was so easily outpacing the Glaucini, proving his worth.

There were seven Glaucini against ten of them, so when he span Bucephalus round to attack he found the Glaucini in the middle of the ambush, unprepared and shocked by it. They had no time to retaliate before they fell, victims to the javelins of the Therici.

Victory cries went up, a sense of revenge for the murder of their chief, they stripped the bodies of weapons and anything that could be used or sold. Alexander led the way back to the kill. It had been a good days hunting, but now they could return back to the village.

It began to snow. Zeus and Apollo had been with them on this day, and now the snow would hide their tracks and cover the bodies of the dead Glaucini.


	21. Chapter 21

Alexander could not help but grin, when they rode back in to the village in something like a triumphant procession. The sight of the game brought people out to watch the return of the successful hunt, but when the men relayed the information of the attack on the Glaucini there were smiles and laughter.

Heading over to the stables, Alexander was aware that he was being pointed at. He looked over at Dalgon, and saw that although he smiled, he was quieter than the rest. He was obviously honest enough not to try to claim the victory, and if he ever hoped to be chief, then his reluctance to attack would have been noted by the entire hunting party and would, no doubt, spread throughout the village by nightfall.

He saw to Bucephalus, fetching hay and water. The other men had followed him, and patted him on the back, or grinned at him, as they saw to their horses. Going to Briseis, he found her distracted by the return of the other horses. It was a better day. He patted her neck, silently conveying the message that Hephaistion would soon take her hunting.

"Ey!"

It was Talis. He had already begun to skin the deer. Brandor was with him, holding his horse while he watched Talis work.

Alexander went over to them, and Talis grinned at him, then kept up a conversation that he could not understand a word of. Brandor nudged Alexander and spoke to Talis, no doubt telling him to be quiet for a moment as Talis fell silent.

Brandor pointed at Talis, then swept his hand around to indicate the village before rubbing his belly and smiling.

Alexander got the message. Nobody would go hungry.

Brandor nudged him again and raised his hand to waist height, then rubbed his belly.

"The children," Alexander said. "The children will not go hungry."

Brandor gave him a puzzled look, not understanding Alexander's words.

Shanna and a couple of women friends came over, carrying empty baskets, which they put down by Talis. Alexander noticed the other women nudge each other as Shanna spoke to Brandor, then looking to Brandor he saw him looking a little uncomfortable. The way Seleucus had looked when he had fallen for one of the women at court and then found himself sitting by her at a banquet, not quite knowing what to do with himself.

He wanted to be with Hephaistion, he stepped back and pointed to the hall. Shanna reached out and touched his arm, then signalled that Hephaistion was sleeping. He smiled and nodded his understanding before leaving them to go to his love.

There was an air of celebration in the main hall. Alexander was greeted warmly as he entered, men called him over to drink with them, while women built up the fires preparing for the feast to come. Children were running around playing.

Alexander noticed a blonde haired boy, being chased by a brown-haired one, and smiled. It had always been the other way as far as he was concerned. He had recognised something in Hephaistion from the first day they met, he had done the chasing as far as he recalled.

He had hoped to find Hephaistion awake, but he was still sleeping, oblivious to the noise outside. Alexander wanted to tell him about the attack on the Glaucini, to share the experience, and to ask again if a stranger could be chief.

He discarded the fur he had been wearing and made his way to the bed, sitting by Hephaistion's side, smiling at him, he looked so peaceful in sleep. He reached up to caress Hephaistion's face, it felt hot to the touch. He was no surgeon but it felt too hot.

"Hephaistion," he said, hoping to get some response, but Hephaistion slept on.

Alexander pulled back the furs and ran his hands under Hephaistion's shoulders, just enough to lift him to him. He cradled his head and called his name again, only louder, but still no reaction.

Letting him back down on the bed, he held his own breath while checking that Hephaistion still lived. All that he could hear was the beating of his heart, but he saw a slight movement.

It was all he needed. He bolted from the room, hurrying through the main hall to the doorway, where he shouted for Talis, waiting to see the man react, before running back to be with Hephaistion, feeling as if each moment were precious, as if he were in the middle of a nightmare.

He ran to Hephaistion's side, then held his breath again while he watched for the slow rise and fall of Hephaistion's chest. Still there. It was still there.

Talis hurried into the room, followed by Brandor and Shanna. He spoke to Alexander, but Alexander could not do anything but gaze on Hephaistion. Talis pushed him out of the way, then felt Hephaistion's face, shaking his head, then thinking for a moment before he started stripping the tunic from him.

He gave orders to Shanna, who quickly left, then spoke to Brandor. Brandor went to Alexander, crouching down and making him look at him. His face told it all. Hephaistion was dying.

Brandor spoke quietly to Talis, and Alexander glanced over to see the disbelief on the large mans face. He held his hands out, shrugged his shoulders, then ran his large right hand across his face as if he needed to think.

Shanna returned with a bowl of water and a cloth. Talis took it from her and began to wipe Hephaistion's body and face. Alexander stopped him, then took the cloth, he wanted to do what he could to help his friend.

"Hephaistion, stay with me," he pleaded, trying to stop the distress he was feeling from sounding in his voice. He wanted to scream to the Gods to save him, but he bit his tongue and carried on with his task. He knew Hephaistion's body so well, each stroke with the cloth reminded him of what he would be losing.

Talis grunted and pulled on Alexander's arm, wanting him out of the way. Alexander moved. Talis touched Hephaistion's face and shook his head, then some decision made him act. He picked the sick man up, lifting one of the furs with him, and without looking back left the room.

Alexander followed. A sudden irrational fear took him. That a dying person might be taken outside, removed from the village. Talis was headed outside, quickly striding through the hall. Brandor was tugging on his sleeve, trying to stop him, but it was like a child trying to stop an ox.

It was getting dark, a few flakes of snow were falling. The cold and the promise of a feast had brought everyone in to the hall, the village was deserted except for a few men who stood guard, wrapped in furs, with meat cooking over their own fires; fires which illuminated the way as Talis strode out of the village.

Alexander caught up with Brandor. "What's he doing? He can't abandon Hephaistion." He did not care that Brandor could not understand him. If this was some custom of the tribe, to cast out the sick and dying, then so be it, but Hephaistion was no member of this tribe and he would not see him abandoned.

He ran to Talis, just in time to see him lower Hephaistion down in to the snow, pulling the fur away, so that his skin lay against it. He spoke soothingly, kindly, like a proud father to an honoured son, as he scooped snow around Hephaistion's body.

"The snow will cool his body," Alexander whispered, suddenly understanding that Talis was still trying to help. He fell to his knees, cupping his hands to help scrape the snow over Hephaistion's body. Brandor stood by, holding the fur, speaking to Talis, who did not reply, he was too busy concentrating on the task at hand.

It took time, they were all shivering from the cold before Hephaistion's body cooled enough for Talis to be satisfied. He took the fur from Brandor, and then placed Hephaistion on it, before carrying him back to the hall. Concerned questions were asked as Talis took him back to the chief's room. Talis shook his head then gave orders to a couple of the women.

Shanna was waiting in the room, she stepped forward as they entered, as if not sure whether Hephaistion would still be alive, and needing the reassurance of seeing for herself.

Talis lay Hephaistion down on the bed, pushing aside the furs. He felt his face and then grinned up at Alexander.

Alexander did not feel so sure. Hephaistion had not yet woken and lay too still. Even after the time in the snow, he was not even shivering. He went to the other side of the bed and took his left hand. The bandage was wet, but it did not matter, he entwined his fingers between cold, lifeless ones and sent another prayer to the Gods. A prayer that he if he should one day conquer, then he would offer a large tribute to them, if only Hephaistion were by his side; if only they would let him live.

Grayroc came into the room and spoke to Brandor. His face showed that he believed Hephaistion would die. Brandor did not approve of what Grayroc was saying, he went to step forward, but Talis held his arm and pulled him back, shaking his head. Brandor heeded the advice even though Grayroc seemed to be goading him.

Shanna spoke, her tone was angry. She walked over to Grayroc, her head held high, like a queen, and whatever she said had the desired effect as Grayroc left the room.

The two women Talis had spoken to came in with bowls of snow. Talis picked up the cloth and lifted some snow into it, folding it over before handing it to Alexander, with the obvious instruction to soothe Hephaistion's body with it.

"Hephaistion," Alexander said, hoping to see a reaction, but none came. In the morning he had seemed to be recovering. He should never have left him had he known. "Hephaistion," he said again, a little louder.

"Hep'astion?" Talis asked, pointing.

Alexander nodded, realising that Talis had not known Hephaistion's name. Perhaps he had not bothered to learn it on the day they met, and now that he was sick there was no way of clearly asking.

Talis brushed the hair from Hephaistion's face, it was wet from the snow. He spoke to him, calling his name, but there was no response.

Alexander watched Talis, wanting to tell him how much Hephaistion meant to him, wanting to share more than just a name. Talis would not know how he could tease, and laugh; how he could always find the right thing to say, or give the best advice. He had not seen Hephaistion in battle, seen how strong he was, and yet, at night how loving he could be. He had known Hephaistion drunk, elated, happy, sad, determined, fearless, fearful, proud, defiant, thoughtful, forthcoming, quiet, playful and more. He was loyal, and he loved him. They loved each other.

"They cut his hair," Alexander said. "The Glaucini. They cut his hair. It should be longer. They meant to sacrifice us, but he saved me…and even now, he would die, happy knowing that I lived." Tears came to his eyes. "I don't want to go on without him."

They could not understand him, but they heard the pain in his voice. Talis put his hand on his arm, and Shanna came to him and held him to her in comfort, like his mother used to when he was a child, before he knew Hephaistion.

Talis got up and left the room. Shanna stepped away, but brushed her hand against Alexander's face, speaking kindly to him. Alexander noticed Brandor looking uncomfortable. It had been Brandor who had saved Shanna first, pulling her back from the attack. It had been Brandor who came after him when he saved her for Hephaistion. And Brandor had blushed when she was near. He loved Shanna.

Alexander smiled. It would usually be Hephaistion who would notice such things, while he was oblivious to them.

Brandor left, without saying a word.

Alexander scooped some melting snow from a bowl, wrapping it in the cloth, and then began to wipe it over Hephaistion's body once more. He felt his face, it was still cool. He wiped the cloth from his neck to his stomach, then repeated the process to have Hephaistion groan, and his right hand lifted weakly as if to try to stop the cooling.

"Hephaistion?"

Blue eyes flickered open and then closed.

Alexander felt as if the sun had just come out from behind a cloud. "Hephaistion," he said. When he got no reaction, he wiped the cloth against his body, delighted when he moved against it, trying to get away from it.

Talis came back holding a small wooden bowl. Alexander turned to him and smiled, while Shanna spoke, no doubt informing him that Hephaistion was waking. Talis replied to her, sounding happy, speaking so loudly that the blue eyes flickered open again. Laughter went up from the hall outside, someone began to sing.

Talis came up to Hephaistion and passed the bowl, full of green water, smelling of herbs, to Alexander, while he lifted up his patient, holding him against his chest as he had before. Then he signalled for the bowl, bringing his free hand up to cup Hephaistion's chin. "Ey," he said loudly, getting the eyes to open, as he brought the bowl up to Hephaistion's lips, just letting a little pour into his mouth. He lifted his chin then, and Hephaistion swallowed, then sought more.

Talis grinned at Alexander, then spoke to him, before tilting the bowl to offer a little more. By the time the drink was gone, Hephaistion's eyes were open and gazing on Alexander. "I'm tired," he murmured.

"You've been in a battle," Alexander replied, taking his hand. "I think the victory is yours, though."

Hephaistion nodded his understanding, then turned his head to see who was holding him, looking back on Alexander before closing his eyes. "I'm hungry," he said.

Alexander looked at Talis and Shanna, not knowing how to ask for food. Talis was looking at him. Alexander took the bowl and acted as though he was eating from it, then pointed to Hephaistion. Talis nodded and spoke to Shanna, who headed for the hall. Alexander smiled, that had been easier than he thought.

He put his hand on Hephaistion's thigh, the leggings he wore were wet from the snow. Alexander untied them and pulled them off, leaving him naked. He reached for some furs and covered the lower half of his body, wanting his love comfortable. He stood up and placed the leggings over one of the wooden chests in the room.

Sitting back, beside Hephaistion, Talis began to speak to him. He pointed at him, then thought for a moment, before pointing in a direction, Alexander could not tell. He nodded towards Alexander's chiton and the word 'grecon' was in his sentence, but he had already known they were Greek, or assumed they were.

It would suit them for the Therici to assume they were Greek, the idea that they were a part of the Sacred Band had worked well for them with the Glaucini. But Alexander liked Talis, and appreciated all that he had done for Hephaistion, he could not lie to the man. He touched his hand to his chest and then to Hephaistion's. "Macedon," he said.

Talis struggled with the word, then spoke again, pointing in another direction, that stretched far beyond the walls of the room they were in. "Macedon," he repeated, and nodded. He touched his hand to his patient's shoulder. "Hephaistion," he said, then pointed at Alexander.

Talis wanted his name. Taking a breath he said, " Alexander". He waited for recognition, for Talis to connect Macedon with Philip's son, but none came. He could not help but smile.

Shanna came back in with a bowl of broth and a plate of meat and bread. Talis had her wait while he signalled for Alexander to come and take his place. When he had, he handed him the bowl, then smiled and left the room with Shanna.

Hephaistion drank the broth, turning his head to look at the plate that Shanna had left on the bed. "Have you eaten?" he asked.

Alexander laughed, from the joy of having Hephaistion in his arms, with Hephaistion, caring if he had eaten or not. "Not yet," he replied, "I want to see if you can keep the broth down first."

"I won't be sick," said Hephaistion. "I feel better."

"I came back from the hunt today. I thought you were dying," Alexander whispered, kissing Hephaistion's neck gently.

Hephaistion nodded. "I was just tired…"

"I could have lost you," Alexander replied, wrapping his arms gently around Hephaistion, knowing that he had been in the grip of something more than sleep.

"Eat."

Alexander reached for the plate and picked up some meat and bread. He had not realised he was so hungry, he shared a choice piece with his companion, who chewed it slowly, then swallowed, before closing his eyes.

He moved then, letting Hephaistion lie back against the pillow. He stood up and undressed, then climbed in beside him, listening to each breath, and sending a prayer of thanks to Zeus for each one.


	22. Chapter 22

The next morning they were left undisturbed.

Alexander awoke, wondering how late in the morning it was. He listened for any sounds from the hall, hearing some men talking, a child laughing, a woman singing.

"I thought you would never wake up."

Lifting his head, Alexander gazed in to Hephaistion's eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better," he replied. "Were you determined to stay awake all night to watch me sleeping?"

"You know me too well," Alexander replied. "But I thought you were dying last night; I had the right to be cautious."

Hephaistion ran his hand through Alexander's shorn hair. "Next time I turn a dagger I'll be more careful."

Alexander propped himself up on his elbows, then threw back the furs. The fire had died down in the night and the room felt cold. He reached for his leggings and pulled them on, then pulled the tunic over his head. Hephaistion was smiling at him.

He fetched some wood and stoked the fire, then pulled on his boots, telling Hephaistion he would go and find something to eat.

It was not so late. Although some people were awake, and nodded a greeting to him as he appeared, some were still asleep, looking as if they had lain down wherever they could find a quiet corner last night. Like after one of his father's banquets. His father. For a moment Alexander wondered what his father would be doing right now. If he thought of him, or not.

A woman stepped forward, and tugged at the sleeve of his tunic, pulling him towards a large pot over a fire. It contained some oats and milk. She ladled some into two bowls, then handed two carved wooden spoons over and two apples. She went to give Alexander a small jug of milk and some wooden cups, but then laughed as she saw Alexander could carry no more. She pushed him back towards the chief's room, following him with the rest. Seeing Hephaistion lying naked in the bed, she gave a knowing glance to Alexander and left the room.

OOXXOO

They had just finished eating, and Alexander had Hephaistion cradled in his arms, when Talis appeared.

Alexander stood up while Talis examined Hephaistion, then spoke to him.

"He says he is glad I survived, as they do not have enough wood to spare for a pyre," Hephaistion translated.

Not knowing if Talis had actually said it, or if Hephaistion was simply teasing him, Alexander studied the large man before him. When Talis grinned, he knew the words had been his, but his face also showed relief and gratitude to whatever god he prayed to.

Talis spoke again, this time using his name.

"He doubts you will go hunting so quickly," said Hephaistion, who frowned a little as Talis turned to pick up the leggings he had been wearing, discarding them as they were still damp. He spoke as he routed through one of the chests, bringing out some more brown leggings, holding them up, judging they would fit.

Hephaistion spoke to Talis, who shushed him quiet, then pulled back the furs and began to dress him. Hephaistion was still weak and could not struggle, he simply had to submit to Talis, who, finishing with the leggings, pulled the light blue tunic back on. Once that task was done, Talis pulled Hephaistion to his feet, but stayed by his side, supporting him.

"How well did you do at the hunt?" Hephaistion asked, a slight annoyance in his tone. Alexander could tell that he wanted to remain in bed if he could.

"We killed some Glaucini, took what they had caught," he reported.

Hephaistion nodded, as if was expecting that to be the answer. Talis began to walk him from the room. "He says I just have to get my strength back now, and I won't do that by lying in bed. They want you out with them, Alexander."

"I think Talis knows what will make you well," he replied. "I think you need to be up and about. Yesterday, when you were left alone…I almost lost you."

Talis led the way to a table by the fire, sitting Hephaistion down and affectionately ruffling his hair.

A man came over, perhaps ten years older than they were, with long dark hair, tied back and a short beard, almost hiding a scar on his lip. He was well-dressed, with an arrogant air about him. When he spoke, two teeth were missing.

When Talis replied, he spoke quietly, mentioning the Glaucini. The man turned to stare at Alexander, looking him up and down as if assessing him. He pointed to Hephaistion, scowling at him, then waved his finger between the two. Talis' voice had a tone of ill-disguised anger, but the man cut him off and turned to Alexander, speaking to him directly.

"This is Galadian, one of the men who would be chief," Hephaistion explained. Yesterday, you stopped Dalgon having any chance to rule. Fendor, the other candidate has said he does not want it, nobody wants Grayroc. He's asking if you will challenge."

Alexander grinned. He saw concern, if not fear, in Galadian's eyes. He looked to Hephaistion. "I want it," he said.

Galadian was speaking again.

"He says just because you killed and took from the Glaucini, just because Shanna favours you…"

Having looked back at Galadian, Alexander shot a glance at Hephaistion. "Shanna?"

Hephaistion spoke to Talis, who explained something to him. Hephaistion, who was already pale, went paler still. "The new chief will take one or both of Fendor's daughters as his wife."

"Only if he wants to," Alexander said, looking to Hephaistion trying to get the answer before he spoke.

He shook his head. "It is their way, Alexander. If he has a widow, then he marries her, if he has daughters, he has the choice of one or all."

Alexander nodded. Understanding. "My father takes a wife after each battle…or it seems that way." He stared into Hephaistion's eyes. "We have nothing, with this we could have something."

Hephaistion bit his lip and looked away, over to where some children played. He looked up at Galadian, who was holding his ground, and then to Alexander. "I know what you are thinking, in a way I agree," he replied. "Is Grayroc weak?" he asked.

Alexander nodded. He wanted Hephaistion's support, he was not so sure of getting it

Hephaistion spoke to Galadian, who spat on the ground, then backed away before leaving the hall.

"What did you say?"

"That he would have your answer in time." Hephaistion shivered a little, and Talis got up and went back to the chief's room. "Would you take Shanna as a wife, knowing that Brandor loved her?" he asked.

"I wouldn't have to take Shanna, there is Tayanor," Alexander retorted, realising at that moment that he had yet to see the girl; that he had no idea how old she was." As he said it, as he looked at Hephaistion, seeing what he had almost lost, he knew the price was too high. He faltered, his argument gone. He reached for Hephaistion's hand and smiled. "Or perhaps some other kingdom will do," he smiled.

Hephaistion smiled back at him, then noticing Talis coming back with a fur, he spoke quickly. "Brandor should be chief. Let's help him take it."

Talis put the fur around Hephaistion's shoulders, then fetched more milk for him, none for Alexander. He spoke and at the same time signalled for Alexander to go.

"He says you are wanted outside. There is work to be done."


	23. Chapter 23

Alexander went to find Brandor. Now that he had agreed with Hephaistion, that the man should be chief, he wanted to see him with new eyes.

Brandor was just a member of this tribe. If the discussion at the campfire, on the first night they met, had been anything to go by, then he was not even considered for the role.

He smiled to think how quickly Hephaistion had assessed the man. Hardly knowing him before deciding his worth. The smile broke into a grin as he remembered how quickly Hephaistion formed a friendship with him. As the king's son everybody wanted to be his friend, if not by choice, because their fathers were pushing them to it. But there had been something in Hephaistion's eyes…an honesty, that the others did not have. From the first it was as though they had known each other before, in another lifetime.

Hephaistion's opinion had always mattered to him. He looked around the village suddenly realising a life as chief to this small tribe would not be enough for him. It was the challenge of gaining the Therici's acceptance that mattered. If he had been declared chief there would have been nothing after, except to unite Illyria and go on from there.

No matter what his mother said, about him being the son of Zeus, Philip was his father. They shared the same hunger, the same ambition, the same love of battle, of achieving more and more. The scars on his father's body bore testament to the hardships he had suffered to achieve his goals, but it was a price worth paying.

He clenched his fists as he remembered Attalus sneering at him, while his father ordered him to apologise. All the years of longing for praise, longing for acceptance from the man, only to find himself exiled while Attalus laughed on.

He walked through the snow. He was far from home; far from it all. He would not ask for another chance, he still felt it was not for him to apologise. His father had forced him from Epirus, would he try to force him from Illyria too? If his father went to Persia, without sending for him, would he return to Macedonia to claim the throne?

Taking a deep breath, Alexander put aside these concerns. He had a lot to be grateful for. Neither Philip or Attalus had somebody by their side, like Hephaistion.

He went to the stables and was lucky enough to find Brandor there with two other men, clearing out the muck from the stalls. He got smiles of welcome from them as he walked in, then feeling as if he should help he picked up a bucket of muck and carried it outside to where a frozen pile of it lay.

They expected his help, treating him as an equal. Alexander did not mind the work, the smell or the dirt. It was honest labour, but whenever he had jumped down into the mud before, to help free a cart full of supplies, or to give a hand to an infantryman, then he was still known for what he was.

He did more than was needed to prove his worth, fetching hay and straw, filling buckets of water, carrying in grain, checking the horses and repairing the stable wall where one of them had kicked a hole into it.

When the stables were done he helped to fetch wood then stacked it in a shelter just outside of the hall. He longed to go in and see Hephaistion, it was beginning to get dark and the smell of food cooking came from the hall. Brandor pulled on his arm, taking him back to the stables, where they lifted out the fresh muck and gave hay and grain to the horses. Only then did they stop, sharing a bucket of water to clean themselves, laughing when Alexander shaved his face, before heading into the hall.

OOXXOO

Hephaistion had talked to Talis for a while when Alexander left, wanting to know more about the Therici.

Seemingly, determined to feed him up, Talis had given him some bean stew, then some cold meat and a little bread.

After he had eaten, he wanted to go and find Alexander, but each time he tried the way was blocked by Talis, telling him he should not go out into the cold, that he should stay in the hall.

In the chief's room he found a sharp dagger and a comb. He had shaved his face then combed his hair. Running his hand down the back of his head, he felt for the length, hoping it might have grown a little since the priest cut it. Frowning as he realised it just touched his shoulders. He had nothing to tie back, nothing to braid. Alexander's did not look too bad, he wore his hair short and the priest did not have too much to go at, unlike his.

He went back into the hall and sat at a table watching the children play. A little girl, with long golden hair, eventually came to him, holding a carved wooden horse. She offered it to him, then took it back the moment he had it, unsure if he would try to keep it. Hephaistion spoke softly to her, and told her the story of the prince who tamed a wild stallion.

As he told the story, more children gathered around to listen, wanting to hear more about the prince. Hephaistion only thought for a moment before telling them of the evil queen and how she tried to bewitch the prince.

The little girl, who had come to him first, climbed up onto his lap, then held onto him as the evil queen's plan seemed to be working. He looked up to see Alexander come into the hall. Then smiled, as he said that the prince went far away, to a new land, and escaped from his mother, he was loved by all and never alone. The children cheered and begged for more, but Hephaistion said he was done for the day.

"Are you the prince?" the little girl asked, kissing his cheek before climbing down from his lap.

Hephaistion looked up at Alexander. "No, but I am his friend," he replied, looking back to the girl to see if she understood who the prince was, but food was being served and she had run off to get some.

Looking back to Alexander, he smiled. "Well, you smell of horses," he commented, standing up and embracing him.

"When you are well enough, I will introduce you to the joys of cleaning out stables," Alexander said in reply. "How are you?"

Hephaistion looked over to Talis. "A lot better, but my protector won't allow me outside just yet.

Bread, meat and jugs of drink were placed on the table. Hephaistion took Alexander's hand and led him over to the table where Brandor was sitting. They sat opposite him and Brandor looked up and grinned before speaking.

"He says that tomorrow all you have to do is clean the cattle out," Hephaistion laughed.

Alexander smiled. "When do they practice warfare?"

"Talis told me this," Hephaistion replied. "The young men are taught by the older men, after that it is up to them to find their own time to practice. The Therici try to live in peace and all that they want is to be able to hunt and to be able to defend themselves. From time to time the villages are attacked by other tribes, but that tends to happen in the spring or summer, not when the weather is bad. They are not doing well. Another tribe raided the village last summer and took some of the cattle, then the harvest was not so good."

"So, Fladon decided to go to the Glaucini."

"I wonder if we might still be there, or dead, if they had not come to the village?" Hephaistion watched for Alexander's reaction. He was going to argue the point but said nothing, he knew his words were true.

"They're good people, Hephaistion, I don't want to see them go without. If they could attack and defeat the Glaucini…" He thought for a moment. "If they had cavalry. Ask them why they do not."

Hephaistion asked the question, only to have laughter as the reply. They could not see how you could fight from a horse, feeling you lost strength by not standing firm on the ground. They knew the Greeks used cavalry, that they used their men as one unit, but in Illyria it was not their way. If Greeks attacked they would use their knowledge of the land to outmanoeuvre them.

"They don't see that cavalry is any use," Hephaistion said, seeing that Alexander was keen to hear the reply.

Alexander shook his head. "Then the hunting better improve, or else they will be in trouble by the end of winter.

Talis came over and slapped his hands on Hephaistion's shoulders, leaning over him to see that he had eaten. Hephaistion knew what he was going to say before he said it. He should get to bed.

One of Brandor's friends made a comment, saying that they would make sure they were not disturbed, then he grinned.

Hephaistion got to his feet, knowing better than to argue with Talis. If he protested he feared he would be carried into the room and put to bed. "I need my rest," he explained to Alexander, pleased when Alexander stood, although more comments came about the Greeks and their habits. One asked if it was love. He turned to the man who had spoken, looking into his eyes as he whispered the answer. "Yes." He was pleased to see envy and understanding there, before he headed to the chief's room with Alexander close behind him.


	24. Chapter 24

"Are you really so tired?" Alexander asked as he undressed.

Hephaistion kicked off the leggings, pleased to feel free of them, before pulling off his tunic and putting it on the chest. He grinned over at Alexander. "What did you have in mind?"

Alexander looked to the bed. "It has been a while. I miss your touch, Hephaistion."

Hephaistion pulled back the furs and got into the bed, resting his head on a pillow, surprised to see that Alexander had not moved. "Do you expect for me to reach you over there?" he asked.

Alexander hurried to his side, pulling the furs over his body.

Hephaistion laughed, and caressed the side of Alexander's face, unable to resist kissing the man before him. He was glad he felt stronger, as they kissed his desire grew and he could not help but thrust against Alexander.

Without breaking the kiss, Alexander reached for him, only Hephaistion pulled away, breathing hard.

Alexander let him go, propping himself up on his elbows, concern all over his face. "What's wrong?"

Grinning, Hephaistion caught his breath. "It has been too long. I want it to last, that is all."

Alexander returned the grin, reaching for him, gently kissing his lips. "We have all night, Hephaistion," he whispered seductively, before disappearing under the furs.

Hephaistion groaned as he felt Alexander's lips claim him. He arched his back, closed his eyes, and gave himself to the moment.

OOXXOO

It was a few days later that Talis decided Hephaistion was well enough to leave the hall. A hunting party would be leaving soon and he had been granted permission, by Talis, to go along.

He found Alexander practicing sword play with Brandor. The horses were tacked up and ready to go, but they were having to wait for Galadrian, who would lead the group.

Galadrian had been making it clear that he did not want Alexander to go, but the rest of the tribe had argued that Alexander brought them luck.

He stood and watched the two men fight, entranced by Alexander's movements, the balance, speed and agility with which he fought. There was strength in each blow of the sword, though he was aware that Alexander was not using full force.

This man, Alexander, loved him. It was good to watch him in action, knowing that, come the night, he would be lying in his arms again. Brandor gave the fight to Alexander and Alexander called him over, anxious for him to translate that Brandor needed to use the shield more and try to anticipate, so that he could attack rather than defend.

Brandor seemed puzzled, saying that Alexander was not giving him the chance to attack, that defence seemed the only option.

Hephaistion smiled as Alexander took the sword and shield from Brandor and handed it to him.

"If words won't do…" Alexander said, stepping back and waiting for him to attack.

Hephaistion felt the sword in his hand and cut the air with it a couple of times to get the weight of it. He took off the fur cloak he had been wearing, and put it aside. The shield was what he was used to, made of metal and about the right size. He stepped forward, aware of a crowd gathering to watch.

He launched in to an attack, feeling good to finally be well and outside. As Alexander raised his shield to defend himself, he knew he would attack immediately and so stepped to the right, bringing his own shield up to defend.

Alexander kept up the attack, so he timed it right to push back with the shield, putting him off balance enough to attack again. This time Alexander did not have time to raise his shield, their swords clanged against each other.

Hephaistion knew that Alexander had always loved the fact he would not let him win. They were each competitive, and what he lacked in the blood of an ambitious royal line, Hephaistion felt he made up with the desire to improve himself. Alexander came from a stock of proven warriors, from the moment he could walk he had been taught to fight. It had not been the same for him, he'd had to work harder just to keep up. But no, he would not let him win, not if he could help it.

Distracted by his thoughts, when he should have been focussed solely on the fight, Alexander was able to attack again knowing he would use the shield to push him back, Alexander stepped back, then stepped forward swinging the sword.

Hephaistion went back but the speed and pace of the attack made him stumble and before he knew it Alexander's sword was at his throat.

He turned to Brandor as a cheer went up. "I see what you mean about the attack," he said, but he knew Brandor had seen him still able to see him fight back and learned something from the demonstration, he would never, at least, have to face Alexander in battle.

Alexander came forward, offering his hand and pulling him to his feet. "You know some dirty moves, Hephaistion," he laughed.

Some of the men stepped forward, wanting to know more about the style of fighting, but just then Galadrian appeared and went to his horse, leaping up onto it before yelling out orders, as if he had been waiting all this time for the hunt to begin.

Putting his fur cloak back on, Hephaistion watched Alexander go to fetch Bucephalus, then discovered that he had already placed the bridle on Briseis for him. He patted the mares neck before leaping onto her back, going over to where the javelins were kept, being handed one by an old man.

Talis came out of the hall, almost tripped by the children who ran out past him intent on a game. He called after them then turned his attention on him. Hephaistion pulled the cloak around himself, and Talis smiled to see it, and wished him luck.

Alexander was a little way ahead, he pushed Briseis up the hill, to ride alongside of him. It was a clear, crisp day, with a blue sky and a pale sun in the sky. Once again, he felt glad to be alive. Turning to take a look at the village he saw some men emerging from over a hill on the opposite side to them, walking carefully, their drawn weapons glinting in the sun. The children had run out in that direction, they were playing, people were going about their business in the village, unaware of the danger.

"Glaucini!" Hephaistion cried, not waiting for any response before pushing Briseis to a gallop, grasping the javelin tighter in his hand.

He was aware of Alexander to his right, that the men had turned their horses and were following, but as they got to the village the men dismounted, unsheathing their swords and then running to attack.

Alexander peeled away, giving a war cry and urging Bucephalus forward, meeting the Glaucini before they could step foot in to the village.

Hephaistion knew what he had to do, and mirrored Alexander's action, coming in from the other side and joining him in the fight. The Glaucini recognised their opponents and this stirred them to fight harder, trying to claw at them, to drag them from their horses, to take back what they had lost.

Their efforts were useless. Hephaistion used Briseis, turning her, plunging her forward to trample and push back, while he used the javelin to kill and maim. More Glaucini were coming, but the Therici were coming forward, it caused them to hesitate. There had been about thirty Glaucini, already down to twenty after Alexander and Hephaistion's efforts. They had the sense to turn and run.

About eleven were overwhelmed by the Therici.

Hephaistion, with a nod to Alexander, pushed forward at the gallop, taking down the men who ran. They were warriors of the Glaucini, and had to be killed, they could not be allowed to attack again, to return to their village and say wht they had seen. He speared one man in the back, then turned Briseis and ran another man down, before spinning around and plunging the javelin into the man's stomach.

He looked up and spotted another two men, who decided to stand and fight. Glancing at Alexander he knew he would love this but he had another man he was giving chase to before he could ride in his direction.

Giving a war cry of his own, he collected up Briseis, quickly gauging what he must do, then he launched her forward. She was fast, but he gathered her up just before she reached them using the energy so as she reared he turned her left so she would plunge down onto one of the men, while he skewered the other, then pulling back the javelin he turned the mare to see Briseis' hoof had struck the man, in the head, and he was already dead.

Alexander cantered over. "Somebody might be with the horses," he said.

They galloped up to the top of the hill, then slowed their pace, their horses breathing hard. All they found were thirty horses, tied and waiting, no man left to tend them.

They left them where they found them, knowing some of the men could come to fetch them later.

They turned and headed back to the village. "Are you alright?" Alexander asked.

Hephaistion grinned. "I am well, not even a scratch. If the Glaucini had only waited for the hunting party to have gone…"

"They're arrogant," Alexander said, looking over to a body on the ground. "He has my sword, I saw him with it."

Hephaistion reined in Briseis, holding Bucephalus as Alexander jumped down and went to retrieve what was his. It was quiet now, the men lay as if they were asleep, only the snow was turning red beneath their bodies. He heard a cry and tried to decide where it was coming from, he thought he had been hearing things, but then the cry came again.

Alexander came back to Bucephalus, checking his sword for damage. "We might find yours amongst them, perhaps my shield…"

Hephaistion signalled for him to be quiet, then jumped down from Briseis and handed the reins to Alexander. He headed off towards a body on the right, the body of a man he had killed, putting his hand up to silence Alexander again as he asked what he was doing.

He knew the man, he had been one of the men whom Alexander had to teach to fight.

Eyes open in death, he lay on his belly, his hands splayed out in front of him, unblooded sword a short distance away, but a circle of blood emerging from the wound on his back.. He was not a fat man, he was lean, but he seemed to have a big gut nonetheless. Hephaistion took the man's right shoulder and hauled his body over to reveal the small girl who had climbed upon his lap.

He must have been carrying her, holding her in front of him, and when he fell he buried her so she could not crawl free.

She was reluctant to move now, but Hephaistion knelt down in the snow and held his arms out to her, and she came to him and held onto him.

Alexander came over with the horses, as he stood and turned to show him what he had found. "Another sacrifice," he said, running his fingers through her long, golden hair.

"We have to stop this," Alexander said, his voice determined.

They walked back to the village, the girls' mother ran to fetch her, thanking them both. Hephaistion looked at Galadrian, and saw him, with his jaw set, knowing that Alexander could rule. He looked for Brandor and saw him standing with the rest of the men, his sword blooded, Galadrian's was not.

Brandor stepped forward, marvelling at the way they used their horses, how quickly they reacted and how the Glaucini had not even reached the village. He spoke earnestly to Hephaistion, putting his hands on his shoulders to ensure he had his full attention.

Hephaistion smiled and turned to Alexander. "He says they should have cavalry. He wants us to show him what to do."


	25. Chapter 25

The weather changed for the worse over the next six days. It did not seem to stop snowing.

Alexander and Hephaistion, spent their time helping with the daily chores, then talking, through the evening, of strategy, cavalry and infantry.

The men of the Therici, would listen intently as Hephaistion spoke, translating Alexander's words and adding some ideas of his own. They watched as cups, knives and apples were used to draw a scene upon the table, learning how a few well-trained men could beat an ill-trained mob like the Glaucini.

Once again, Alexander taught sword play, only this time Hephaistion was by his side, using the open space, created when the tables were pulled back, to teach the men, who came up one at a time. They were keen to learn, and respectful, not rushing in like the Glaucini, but making sure they had it right, moving slowly until they grew in confidence.

Hephaistion would often nod in Brandor's direction, saying that it was Brandor's idea, that Brandor was a natural leader. When the Therici would ask if Alexander would be their chief, he would say, that if they wanted to stay in Illyria they were picking the wrong man. They were puzzled by this reply, but took the answer to be no, and began to look at Brandor as their man.

Galadrian, would sit silent, chewing the inside of his lip. His eyes showed that he would have loved to find fault, to be able to argue that they should not attempt to fight, that they should ration their resources and hope for an early spring. But even he knew that, with the attempted attack by the Glaucini, they had to do something.

He would study the table before him, appearing quietly envious that he could not plan a battle that way, that he did not have the ability to say where the men should be placed for best effect.

Brandor began to grow in confidence, through the belief in him, given by Alexander and Hephaistion. He would ask questions, and speak for the tribe, voicing any concerns, then listen and nod as Hephaistion translated Alexander's words, inspiring him, showing him there was nothing to fear if the plan was right.

OOXXOO

"How could you tell that Brandor would make a good chief," Alexander asked as they undressed.

Hephaistion was pulling off his tunic top, so there was a delay before he answered. "He was leading those men, after the chief was killed, he gave you his sword and then had them follow him while he rode after you." He smiled, bit his lip, then stepped up to Alexander, embracing him, then briefly kissing his lips. "Talis has since told me that Brandor is the son of the former chief. He died shortly after Brandor's mother, so Fladon had no widow or daughter to choose from. Brandor was practically raised by Talis, he sees him as a son."

Alexander returned the kiss. "I thought Talis had adopted you," he said.

Hephaistion shook his head. "I think he sees me as your mouthpiece. They see you as being vital to their success. He couldn't let me die because of it."

Alexander was about to claim another kiss, but he suddenly hesitated. "If Fladon did not have to marry the widow, or the daughter, then perhaps I would not have to marry someone I did not choose."

"We agreed to help Brandor."

"They think that I am vital to their success. You just said it, Hephaistion."

"Let them think it, Alexander. We will always have friends amongst the Therici, you do not have to be the chief to have power over them."

Alexander considered this, then grinned at him. "You just don't want me to bed Shanna, do you?"

"You can be with who you choose, Alexander. I'll not stop you."

Alexander ran his hand down Hephaistion's back, pulling him closer." You would give me up so easily?" teased Alexander.

Hephaistion attacked, by claiming a kiss, a lingering passion-filled kiss. "And could you give me up so easily?"

Alexander pushed Hephaistion back, onto the bed, seeking another kiss like it, which he was gladly given. "I choose you, Hephaistion. I choose you every time," he murmured.

OOXXOO

When the snow came to a stop, having more than enough horses to choose from, Alexander and Hephaistion spent their time deciding which would be best for the cavalry.

They rode at speed, turning quickly, seeing how each horse responded, how they would react when asked to go forward, to push against another horse, to the clash of weapons around their heads.

The Therici took this to be a new entertainment, but they had especially enjoyed the moment when Bucephalus and Briseis were ridden, to show them what they had to achieve. The two experienced riders, and their horses, showed how far they would have to go to achieve any semblance of their abilities. But they were inspired and began to talk of defeating the Glaucini.

When the horses were selected, the men of the Therici got their chance to prove themselves. They could all ride well enough, but some had difficulty in turning at speed, and others were in danger of killing the horse beneath them as they swung a sword.

Days passed in training, and each night Alexander and Hephaistion would sit, too tired to think, listening to the Therici enthuse about the improvements they were making.

OOXXOO

As Alexander was riding in a line of eight men, signalling for them to close ranks, to match the pace of their horses, Hephaistion was taking a rest.

His own eight men had not been able to do this right, though they were shouting advice now to their comrades, as if they had. Alexander had a plan which would need the forty-eight men they had, surrounding the Glaucini village in six groups of eight. When approaching from the forest, they needed to spread out and encircle the village. Each group of eight had to be working as one unit.

Alexander had learnt some basic commands, and with the men listening to him, he achieved some semblance of a cavalry formation. After they had done it once, he made them repeat the manoeuvre.

Hephaistion looked along the line of watching men, and saw Shanna making her way to the training ground, wrapped in a fur cloak, looking every inch a queen. He reined Briseis back and went over to her, following the direction of her gaze, and seeing it rested on Alexander.

Shanna smiled, and blushed slightly, as Hephaistion approached, and then dismounted. She nodded and made a comment about Alexander being handsome, then she looked down at her booted feet, before staring into Hephaistion's eyes and asking if he truly loved him.

Hephaistion laughed at the question. It seemed to have an obvious answer. He looked over at Alexander, before replying that he did, and always would, then he looked back to Shanna - she had not had the answer she wished for.

Briseis nuzzled against the fur hat on Hephaistion's head. She was always intrigued when he wore it; always examined it as if she might eat it or pull it from his head.

Shanna laughed to see it, then suddenly grew serious and said that she was glad her father's death would be avenged.

Hephaistion replied that it was Brandor's idea to use cavalry; that it was a good idea and the only way to defeat the Glaucini.

Shanna looked over at Brandor, who was talking to the men, his hands drawing pictures in the air, intent on getting his ideas across. She smiled to see it, then looked at Alexander, catching him grinning over at the man beside her.

Hephaistion saw her acknowledge that she was wishing for something she could not have. Even if he stepped aside, encouraged Alexander that it would be the right thing to do, to marry Shanna, then Alexander would eventually break her heart, without even meaning to.

Alexander was Alexander. Destined for greatness, he would always be driven, to go on, to the next battle, the next country, until there was nothing left to conquer. Even in exile, when they should have been quietly biding their time, Alexander had found a battle, a cause to fight for. The Gods meant for Alexander to fight, but Hephaistion would always be grateful that they had also chosen to place him by his side - he would not choose to be anywhere else.

Shanna smiled at Hephaistion, and then walked on over to Brandor, placing her hand on his knee and talking to him. Brandor stuttered to a halt, the men with him laughed, but Shanna reached for his tunic and pulled him forward, claiming a brief kiss. She turned then and walked back to the village.

OOXXOO

A few days later, after much practice, Alexander had the men go off, in their groups of eight, to surround their own village.

He had wanted Talis to head one of the groups, but even with Hephaistion urging him to do it, Talis refused, saying he would stay with Brandor. Alexander did think that Talis would rather Hephaistion was with him too, but he did not press the matter, but let Galadrian take charge of eight.

Galadrian's eight men were now holding up proceedings, realising too late that they were too close to Brandor's group, then taking their time getting into place.

If they had been attacking the Glaucini village, the alarm would have gone up well before now, losing them the advantage of surprise.

Itching to give the first war cry, he nodded to Brandor, granting him the honour. Each night Hephaistion had spent time promoting the idea that Brandor should be chief. If they defeated the Glaucini then their objective would have been achieved. They also needed the victory to survive the rest of the winter, to have an Illyrian chief they might rely on in the future.

Brandor's shout echoed through the valley and each group moved forward, but though Alexander's, Hephaistion's and Brandor's men spread out like they were supposed to, two others stayed in a group, and Galadrian encouraged the rest to dismount halfway there and then run to the village with their swords drawn.

Alexander gave a loud sigh and shook his head, then turned to gaze at Hephaistion, who rode over to him, before going with him to translate as he told them what to do, once more.


	26. Chapter 26

"There is not so much meat left," Hephaistion reported, carrying two wooden bowls of broth over, and some bread. "We should go hunting soon."

Alexander nodded in agreement, breaking off a piece of bread and dipping it in the broth, before eating it.

Hephaistion studied Alexander, for a moment. "Their hand-to-hand combat has improved…a lot. They even fight, well enough, seated on a horse," he added.

Shaking his head, Alexander looked at his broth, then to Hephaistion. "It's a simple enough thing to encircle a village and to anticipate when to attack, to watch the other men, leave no gaps…"

"Not to the Therici. This is new to them." He sighed and reached for Alexander's hand. "Perhaps, tomorrow will be a better day."

Brandor came over to them, and Hephaistion released his love's hand and began to eat his broth, listening while Brandor spoke to him. Hephaistion nodded his head, then without translating agreed to what Brandor had said. Alexander knew enough of the language now, to know he had.

Brandor looked over to Shanna, smiling to see her gazing on him. He was carrying himself differently these days, acting every inch the chief-in-waiting, as if he was now aware of his destiny. He patted Hephaistion's shoulder and then made his way to Shanna.

Hephaistion carried on eating his broth, ignoring Alexander, though aware he was waiting for a translation.

"Well?" Alexander said, at last. "What did he say?"

Hephaistion grinned up at him. "That he's arranged to go hunting early tomorrow morning, and we are welcome to join him, or stay here if we wish." He went back to his broth.

Alexander waited, then reached for Hephaistion's bowl and lifted it away. "And what did you say? I know you agreed to something."

"You're getting better with the language then?" said Hephaistion, reaching for the bowl, only to have it moved further away. "Can I have my broth, Alexander?" he pleaded. "If we're going hunting tomorrow, I could do with a good meal in me tonight."

Alexander grinned, and handed back the bowl. "I think an early night is called for too." He glanced over at Brandor and Shanna, standing close, caressing each other. "I think we better make the most of the chief's bed, while we can."

OOXXOO

Alexander steered Bucephalus, at a gallop, through the forest. Looking left, he saw Hephaistion mirroring him, then he glanced behind to see the men of the Therici bringing up the rear.

They had a wild boar ahead of them and they were closing the distance and slowly encircling it.

He pushed Bucephalus to an even great speed, raising the javelin in his hand and then stuck. The boar squealed as it was hit, then rolled on the ground, already dead before its body came to a standstill.

Cheers went up at the kill, men came forward with a packhorse, ready to lift the body onto it. It was just early morning and they had already done well.

Hephaistion rode over, his breath like mist on the cold air, looking like a God in his furs. Alexander smiled to see him wearing the fur hat, he seemed to like it, and his hair had grown longer now, long strands visible from underneath it. For a moment, he saw the dark hair, falling in long layers, reaching just to Hephaistion's shoulders as he arched his back, while they made love. He looked away, not wanting to show his desire for the man when he should be focussed on the next kill.

Talis came over and handed him his javelin back, patting his knee and grinning at him, then he was aware of Hephaistion by his side.

"It was a good kill, Alexander."

"It feels good to be doing something other than cleaning stables or training," Alexander admitted. He looked at the boar, there was enough meat on it for a good feast, or a few days broth.

"We should let Brandor have the next kill," Hephaistion said.

Alexander felt like a child who was about to have his favourite toy taken from him. He saw the logic in Hephaistion's words, but he dearly wanted to take the next kill too. He nodded, not looking at Hephaistion as he spoke, but concentrated on tidying Bucephalus' mane. "If he can get close enough," he replied. "We would have lost the boar if I had waited for him to catch up."

Hephaistion laughed. "You sound like a petulant child, Alexander. You sound like the boy I first knew. I thought that he had long gone, but I see he is still there."

Alexander looked up at Hephaistion, finding the blue eyes laughing at him still. "Stop it," he smiled, well aware of what he had been like as a child. Although Leonidas had been strict, his mother had filled his head with contempt for others, ideas of his own importance in the scheme of things, spoiling him, cosseting him. It had taken Hephaistion, pushing him over onto his backside, before storming off, tired of his princely behaviour, to make him change his ways. He had sought Hephaistion out, after that, and in doing so he had found himself.

He wanted to ask Hephaistion if he would knock him to the ground right now, but he preferred to forget the brat he was. He had found Hephaistion that day, and apologised, to be instantly forgiven by an embrace and a soft kiss on his cheek.

Lost in his thoughts he felt a soft kiss against his cheek. Hephaistion had moved Briseis in closer and leaned over to claim it. "I remember," he whispered.

Alexander grinned, then reached for Hephaistion claiming his lips, in a lingering kiss. Cheers and shouts went up as he did so, he had forgotten the Therici were right beside them. He broke the kiss, leaving Hephaistion breathless. "We are no longer boys," he said. "We can take more than chaste kisses."

Hephaistion nodded and smiled. "So, Brandor can have the next kill…if he can keep up?"

"Yes."

Hephaistion grinned, his blue eyes stayed focussed on him, as he reined Briseis back. Then he wheeled the mare around and went to Brandor, who was just going back to his horse. Hephaistion jumped down from his mare and handed Brandor the reins, taking those of Brandor's horse.

Brandor hesitated, stroking Briseis' neck before leaping onto her back. Hephaistion got onto Brandor's horse and then rode back to Alexander. "I think he will keep up now," he laughed, as he rode on by.

Alexander shook his head, wondering, not for the first time, just where he might be if Hephaistion were not in his life. Then he laughed as well as he remembered they were exiles, struggling for survival, with no set future, and no place to be, and he suddenly realised he would not have it any other way.

OOXXOO

By mid-afternoon, they had killed two more boars, Brandor taking one, and Talis the other. It had been a good days hunting, far better than they had anticipated, the gods seemed to be with them.

With laughter and good-humoured talk, they made their way back to the village, coming out of one valley and down into the next, skirting along the side of a small frozen lake, then climbing again with their home soon to be in sight.

Talis and Brandor rode close to Alexander and Hephaistion. Brandor was as concerned as Alexander about their struggles to get the cavalry manoeuvres right. He was wondering if there was another way they could defeat the Glaucini, but then, before Alexander could reply, he answered his own question. They needed the advantage of cavalry, they just had to get it right.

Hephaistion translated, then replied for Alexander, saying Brandor needed to speak to the men, to get through to them the importance of working as a unit, to trust that they could fight as well on horseback. He did not add that Alexander had said they would need the help of the gods if they were to achieve a significant victory.

It was just beginning to get dark as they arrived back at the village, children running alongside them smiling and laughing to see the hunt had been successful.

Alexander turned to see that Hephaistion had lifted the girl, they had found, up before him. She was smiling broadly and calling out to her friends to see her. He smiled to see it. One day they would have children of their own, he could see what a good father Hephaistion would be, in his caring for this child.

They made their way to the stables and dismounted. The little girl gave Hephaistion a quick, shy hug as he set her down, then ran off to rejoin her friends.

Hephaistion had not noticed Alexander watching him as he watched the child's progress through the village.

"She's fond of you," Alexander said.

He had been lost in thought, so was surprised by Alexander's words. "She has no father," he replied. "He was killed by the Glaucini." He frowned, lost in thought again.

"Talis told you." Alexander said it as a statement, Talis seemed to be the source for all information on the village. He wanted to break Hephaistion's thoughts, knowing they could only be taking him back to their time with the Glaucini. "We will avenge the dead, Hephaistion."

"We could be amongst the dead," Hephaistion replied, turning to Alexander and looking into his eyes. It had all been so close.

"The gods have other plans for us. We've always known it."

Hephaistion nodded in acknowledgement of Alexander's words. He smiled softly and then reached for Bucephalus' reins from Alexander. "I'll see to the horses. Why don't you go and find some warm water we can wash with?"

"Are you sure? I don't mind seeing to the horses," Alexander offered, but could tell by Hephaistion's expression that he knew why he was looking to reverse their roles.

"She won't bite," he replied.

"She's getting worse," Alexander said plaintively.

It had been easy enough at first. Alexander was able to ask for warm water, from one of the women in the hall, without needing to speak the language. She would talk to him though, and he would smile and nod as she poured water into a large bowl he had. Then Hephaistion had told him what she was saying, how suggestive her words were, and since that time she had begun to touch him, reaching for his hair, stroking his arm, caressing his chest, and then she would pour the water.

Hephaistion got the same treatment when he fetched the water, but not so intensely since he had spoken to her. Like the girl at Stegran's village, Alexander suspected that Hephaistion was letting him fall into a trap, for his own amusement.

Hephaistion grinned at him, then turned, leading the horses away. "Get some water," he said.

Alexander hesitated, then headed for the hall, praying to Zeus, Apollo, Hercules, Dionysus and all the other gods he could think of that the woman would not be around.

OOXXOO

Hephaistion busied himself with seeing to the horses, not only Bucephalus and Briseis, he helped to carry in hay for the others, and put fresh straw down.

He fetched some fresh water, filling buckets, then gave oats to the horses chosen for the cavalry work. The stores, where these were kept, were getting low on supplies, and he wondered how much the Therici had been praying for an early spring.

The tribe were in trouble. He thought of Fladon and how desperate he must have been to go on that foolhardy mission to the Glaucini.

He was almost done, when Talis appeared, saying nothing but signalling for him to follow.

He picked up the fur cloak he had discarded while working, wrapping it around himself as he hurried after Talis. Looking up he saw a crowd forming a circle, but he could not see what it was for.

Talis called for some to step aside, and it was then Hephaistion heard a stilted attempt at Illyrian, with a strong hint of Macedonian in the accent. He smiled as he recognised the voice.

"Perdiccas!" he called out, stepping through the crowd to see Ptolemy and Seleucus also there.

"Hephaistion!" Ptolemy stepped forward and lifted him off the ground, swinging him around before dropping him back down.

"We've been looking everywhere!" Seleucus exclaimed, hurrying to embrace him.

"I don't know how we thought it would be easy to find you," said Perdiccas, batting Seleucus off to clasp Hephaistion to his chest.

Talis came over, standing close to Hephaistion, placing a large hand on his shoulder as if to claim him. Hephaistion turned and reassured him they were good friends, at this Talis' stern face broke into a broad smile. He slapped Ptolemy on the back, almost making him fall forward.

"Where's Alexander?" Seleucus asked.

"In the hall," Hephaistion replied, "I'll take you to him."

Ptolemy looked him up and down. "I might have mistaken you for an Illyrian." He pulled at Hephaistion's fur hat, removing it. "What happened to your hair?"

Hephaistion lifted his hand to his head. "It's a long story." He turned to see all three looking suspiciously at the Therici." Grabbing his hat back he slapped Ptolemy with it. "They are friends, Ptolemy. Good friends."

He placed the hat back on his head, missing its warmth, longing to see Alexander's face when he saw who had just arrived.


	27. Chapter 27

Hephaistion led the way through the hall, heading to the chief's room. Alexander was there, having just finished washing himself. Hephaistion grinned at him and then stood aside as Perdiccas, Seleucus and Ptolemy came into the room.

Alexander hurried to them, embracing them, laughing and saying that he almost did not believe his eyes. "What are you three doing here?" he said, his tone full of disbelief.

"We missed you," Seleucus said, throwing a playful punch in Alexander's direction.

"Did you think we'd sit at home while you were having fun up here?" Perdiccas added.

Ptolemy reached up and ran his fingers through Alexander's hair. It had almost grown back to its normal length, but not quite. "It seems like Hephaistion was not the only one getting a haircut," he said.

Alexander pulled on a fresh, light green, tunic and embraced Ptolemy quickly, as if still not believing his companions were here. "We were captured by a tribe called the Glaucini, they're about a days ride from here, we were held captive though they meant to sacrifice us, only when this tribe, the Therici came, were we able to escape, then Hephaistion was injured by a poisoned blade…"

As he spoke he walked back into the hall, with the three men practically running after him to hear what he was saying. Only Hephaistion took his time, laughing at the effect that Alexander's concise update was having.

Alexander sat at a table where plates of meat, bread and fruit were ready, and a jug of Therici ale which they had grown a taste for at last. As he picked up some bread and ate, he went silent.

"Oh, and we're going into battle against the Glaucini," Hephaistion said, pouring the ale, before reaching for some bread and meat.

After a moment's stunned silence from the three, they burst into laughter, reaching for the food, sharing what gossip they knew.

Ptolemy shook his head. "A battle, eh?" He laughed. "Now, I'm glad I came."

"How did you find us?" Alexander asked.

"A chief, called Stegran, directed us. We accepted his hospitality the same as you did."

"He stole some of our equipment," added Perdiccas.

Alexander and Hephaistion laughed, admitting the same had been done to them.

"What happened to you, Hephaistion?" Perdiccas asked, looking with concern upon his friend.

Hephaistion shrugged his shoulders. "A poisoned knife cut my hand." He held his left hand up to show a fresh scar. "In the Glaucini, there is a giant of a man called Glanna, but I knew him as Ajax. He was trying to stop me from escaping, if I had known the blade was poisoned, then I would have been more careful." He could see the concern on Perdiccas' face, and so he added. "I am well now."

"Does each tribe have a giant?" Seleucus asked. "Who was the man so keen on protecting you?"

"Oh, you've met Talis then?" Alexander said, laughing and taking a drink of ale. "He's adopted Hephaistion. Though I think at the moment, I am the one in need of a father."

Quiet reigned for a moment, then Ptolemy finally spoke. "We have no news, Alexander, except to say your father is well. He made it clear we were not welcome at Pella on the morning he discovered you had gone. In truth, we couldn't leave fast enough, the mood he was in. We were worried in case he had you brought back, then we wished he would, in the hope that things could be sorted. I'm sure he'd meet you half way, Alexander."

"It would be too much to expect a full apology," Perdiccas conceded.

Alexander looked at Hephaistion before he spoke. "Messengers seemed to arrive at Dodona every day. None gave any hope of even a slight acceptance that he could have been wrong. I expect Attalus was standing right by my father's side as the messengers were sent."

"That man's as cunning as a fox," Ptolemy said, drinking some ale and then pulling a face. "How can you drink this?" he asked.

"You get used to it," Hephaistion replied. "We can only hope that the gods provide a chance for Attalus to get what he deserves," he said. "Though, I think Philip would have the sense to get the man away from Pella before he even thinks of calling for Alexander to return."

Alexander laughed bitterly at that comment. "If he finds out I am here, he will make it as awkward for me to stay, as he did at Dodona. Exile to my father means more than just leaving Macedonia, it means disappearing off the edge of the world."

Hephaistion put his hand on Alexander's arm, waiting until Alexander gazed upon him before he spoke. "Your father loves you, Alexander. He needs you. He knows this and he will send for you," he said, earnestly.

Just then Brandor and Talis came over to them, drinks in hand. They sat down at the table and helped themselves to some food.

"Welcome to Therici," Brandor said. He had asked Alexander and Hephaistion to help him to learn Greek. "You welcome…here. You sleep here," he added.

Hephaistion replied in Illyrian, obviously praising him as Brandor's face lit up with a broad grin.

"Once we have defeated the Glaucini, he will be the new chief," Alexander explained, giving a nudge to Ptolemy who had his eyes set on Shanna. "And she will be his queen," he said, a gentle warning in his voice."

"You fight and us?" Brandor asked.

"We will," Perdiccas replied, noting the confusion in Brandor's eyes.

Hephaistion laughed. "Sometimes he says things and then does not understand the reply. He's working on it."

Talis stood up and walked round to the three newcomers, pulling at Ptolemy's chiton to encourage him to stand. He spoke as he took hold of Seleucus' arm and tried to lead him away.

"He wants to show you where you will be sleeping," Hephaistion replied.

"Can't it wait?" grumbled Ptolemy.

"It's still early," Seleucus added.

"You'll be glad of a good nights sleep," Alexander explained. "The days start early here and we have work to do."

He stood up and embraced the three men while Talis muttered 'Grecon' under his breath, then headed for the chief's room with Hephaistion.

Ptolemy gave Talis a look as if he might argue further, about being ordered to his bed, but Perdiccas put his hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear.

"You'd be a brave man to take him on, and even Alexander has retired," he said.

Ptolemy grinned. "He won't be sleeping for a while yet though."

"There are lots of girls here," Seleucus cut in, encouraging his two friends to follow Talis. "The night is still young."

OOXXOO

The next morning Alexander found them already awake and sitting back at the table eating warmed oats and milk. Ptolemy had his left elbow on the table and was resting his head in his hand while he stirred the contents of the bowl. Perdiccas and Seleucus were grinning at him, they were always more alert than Ptolemy in the mornings.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"I'd have slept better in the middle of a market place," grumbled Ptolemy. "There was talking until late, then snoring, and then women clattering pots and bowls and laughing with each other."

"It was mainly Ptolemy's snoring that kept me awake," joked Seleucus. "Though I liked Stegran's village best, there was a girl who kept me warm at night."

Alexander's face flushed a little. He reached over to take an apple from a wooden bowl. "When you've done, come and find me at the stables," he said, pulling his fur cloak around his shoulders before heading outside.

"You might have shared the same bed mate with Alexander," Perdiccas noted to Seleucus.

Seleucus looked surprised. "I've never been near a bed with Hephaistion."

Perdiccas gently cuffed Seleucus. "With the girl in the village. There's a story there."

Ptolemy laughed, surprising his two companions. "I can imagine Philip and Olympias' faces if Alexander ever marries a girl from a village." He stood up. "Come on, let's go see what the day brings."

"I'll go fetch Hephaistion. I'll see you outside." Perdiccas said, heading to the chief's room.

OOXXOO

Hephaistion was just reaching for his tunic top when Perdiccas walked hesitantly into the room.

"Perdiccas?" he said, looking to see if anyone was with him, but he was alone. "What is it?" he asked.

Perdiccas stepped up to him, looking to the floor before gazing into his eyes. "Before I left, I heard that Demaratus of Corinth had arrived at Pella….to talk with Philip. I think he is going to make Philip see sense and send for Alexander."

Hephaistion nodded his head. "Demaratus has been a good friend to both of them. If anyone can mediate a truce between Philip and Alexander, then he would be the man to do it.

"I didn't say anything to the others, I didn't know whether Alexander should know or not."

"He will probably hope to see a messenger arrive," Hephaistion replied, then shook his head. "Philip could have lost his son through this, we came close to death, Perdiccas."

Perdiccas reached up and traced a scar on Hephaistion's upper left arm. "It's healed well," he remarked. "I saw you wounded, putting yourself between Alexander and the Theban who might have killed him."

"Alexander can fight his own battles," Hephaistion replied, pulling the tunic over his head. "But at times, he is too much of a target. He goes forward without a thought for his own safety…"

Hephaistion's words were cut short as Perdiccas leaned in and kissed him full on the lips. It was so unexpected that he gasped, which Perdiccas took as an invitation to push his tongue into his mouth. Perdiccas' hand came up to clasp the back of his head, not allowing him to move away.

Holding himself still, not responding to the sweetness of it, or the desire in the kiss, Hephaistion raised his hands and placed then on Perdiccas' chest, gently pushing him back, though it took a while for Perdiccas to get the message and break the kiss.

"No," Hephaistion breathed, looking deeply into Perdiccas' eyes, trying to understand.

Perdiccas' face flushed. "I've wanted to do that for so long." Seemingly unaware, his hands came to rest on Hephaistion's waist.

"But you are always with the girls," Hephaistion said, still shocked by his friends actions.

Perdiccas laughed. "Why would I want to lie with another man, when the one I want is right here before me. When the one I want can't be mine….yet." He smiled. "That's my one consolation, that one day Alexander will take a wife, may take other lovers…"

"It won't change the way we feel," Hephaistion replied earnestly. He put his hands over Perdiccas', not to encourage him, but to stop them roving over his body. "It's more than a physical relationship, it's the feeling that I have known him in another life before, that we are meant to be. I'm sorry, Perdiccas, you're waiting for something that will never happen."

"Ah." Perdiccas smiled, his face flushing a deeper red as he stepped back, releasing Hephaistion. He looked to the floor, then back to Hephaistion. "I don't know what the future holds for Alexander, but I don't envy the fact he is a prince, and if he inherits the throne, gains glory in battle, has all the riches in the world, I still won't envy him." He sighed. "But I envy him that he has you, Hephaistion. I just hope he appreciates what he has."

He began to turn, meaning to go, but Hephaistion reached for him and pulled him into an embrace, holding him tightly. "He does," he said, earnestly. "He knows it, Perdiccas, he tells me every day."

Perdiccas hesitated then lifted his arms to return the embrace, breathing in Hephaistion's scent. "I had to try," he said.

"I know. I'm flattered by it. Honestly, I am."

Perdiccas pulled back and smiled. "Alexander just said he was going to the stables."

Hephaistion grinned, taking him by the arm and leading him from the room. "Come, Perdiccas, let me introduce you to the pleasure of shovelling shit."

OOXXOO

It was over the next few days that things finally began to come together.

Galadrian had played up about the fact he had been demoted in favour of Ptolemy. He raised his voice and banged the table with his cup, when the news was broken, looking around, hoping for a word of support. But all the men stayed silent, secretly wishing he were not even a part of it, so he bit his tongue, if only not to be excluded.

From then on he kept close to Ptolemy, careful to copy him in everything that he did, so as not to make mistakes.

On the final day, before they were due to leave for the Glaucini village, Hephaistion cantered over to Alexander, bringing his mare alongside Bucephalus.

Alexander had been silently watching, concentrating on the practice taking place before him. A gentle smile appeared on his face, the only sign that he was aware of Hephaistion's presence, then he turned his head and the smile widened. "You might even mistake them for Macedonian cavalry," he said.

Hephaistion turned and watched for a moment, then returned the smile. "If it were not for the lesser quality of the mountain ponies they ride, or the furs they have swathed themselves in, then they might have been mistaken for Macedonian cavalry…new recruits to the Macedonian cavalry."

"Shouldn't you be with your troop?" Alexander asked, ignoring the jibe.

Hephaistion looked over to the men, they were faultless in their part. "They are eager to be gone; eager to get the job done," he replied. He turned to Alexander. "We better make the most of the bed tonight. When the battle is won, Brandor will take Shanna as his queen."

Alexander looked surprised. "That quickly?"

"Our plan worked. The men are already talking of Brandor as if he were their chief." Hephaistion bit his lip before he spoke again. "But you could still take it, Alexander. If you wanted to."

Alexander surveyed the scene before him. Of the small village and the people in it, then looked east. "I want more," he sighed. He turned back to Hephaistion, who was smiling at him. "But you would go along with what I wanted," he stated. "To the ends of the earth?"

Hephaistion now looked over the village. In a short time they had found a home here. Then he gazed back on Alexander and knew where his heart truly called home. "To the ends of the earth, Alexander," he said.

Alexander pushed Bucephalus into a gallop, calling in the men, they had done enough. He was aware of Hephaistion right behind him, and of Ptolemy, Seleucus and Perdiccas, encouraging their horses forward to join them. It turned into a race, circling the village, the thunder of hooves echoing through the valley. At the front, anticipating the battle ahead, Alexander leaned his head back and gave a war cry, turning and laughing with Hephaistion as it followed the thunder down the valley.


	28. Chapter 28

They dined, then the whole of the village went early to their beds. The next daythey would head to the Glaucini village, needing a victory to ensure there would be no more threats, no more hunger.

Alexander undressed and climbed onto the bed, pulling back the furs and sliding in beneath them, before pushing them back to rest low on his hips. He propped himself up on his elbow, watching Hephaistion busy himself looking through a wooden chest.

Finding what he was looking for, Hephaistion held up his chiton, frowning at the state of it, then turning it as if the damage to the hem, where he had cut a bandage from it, might not be so bad.

"I think that Perdiccas would lend you one of his," Alexander commented, his eyes not leaving Hephaistion's face.

Hephaistion discarded the chiton and pulled off his tunic top. "I wanted to look the part of a Macedonian going in to battle," he murmured. Coming free of the tunic, with only his lower arms still entangled in it, he looked over at Alexander. "Why Perdiccas?"

Alexander grinned. "He is about your size."

Hephaistion hesitated for a moment and then pulled his arms free from the tunic, folding it before placing it on the chest. He kicked off his boots, putting them by the fire to dry out. "Ptolemy is too," he replied.

"Then ask him."

Hephaistion stared at the discarded chiton, now looking more like a rag than anything. "We have no armour."

Alexander ran his hand along Hephaistion's side of the bed, wondering just when his lover would be joining him. "We don't need it…not the way they fight."

Hephaistion thought for a moment. He went to undo his leggings and then hesitated. "Why Perdiccas?"

Laughing, Alexander sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. "Are you never coming to bed?

Leaving the leggings as they were, Hephaistion came over to the bed and lay down on it. He smiled, then claimed a kiss before moving his body over Alexander's, taking his hands and pinning them to the bed. Breaking a kiss, he lifted his head. "Is that what you were waiting for?" he asked, seductively.

Alexander nodded, then tried to free his hands so that he could attack the leggings. He wanted nothing between them. Hephaistion claimed yet another kiss, this one more passionate than the last. As Alexander moved against him, Hephaistion released him and moved back.

"Where are you going?" Alexander asked, grabbing at his wrist to stop him.

"To see Perdiccas, and ask him for a spare chiton."

"Don't you think, he might believe, all of his prayers have come true?"

Hephaistion stared in to Alexander's eyes. "You know something."

"I saw him gazing on you tonight…and Ptolemy told me that he speaks your name when he sleeps."

Biting his lip, Hephaistion stared into Alexander's eyes. "When he came to tell me of Demaratus' arrival at Pella…"

Alexander released Hephaistion's wrist and then placed the fingers of his hand gently against Hephaistion's lips, to silence him, not wanting to hear more. "It's because of who you are," he said. "I know what it is like. I've been there too. Before I knew your feelings for me were the same." He moved his fingers away from Hephaistion's lips, moving them around his neck, pulling him forward to claim a kiss, one that expressed the passion he held for him.

When they broke for air, Alexander released him. "Go fetch your chiton, Hephaistion," he said, and smiled.

Hephaistion ran his hand along Alexander's upper arm, feeling the strength, wanting to be held. Still breathless, he moved off the bed and made his way to the door. Turning back, he saw the man he loved more than life, looking irresistible lying in furs, his skin glowing by the light of the fire. He abandoned his task, striding back to the bed, pulling at and removing the leggings in haste.

"It can wait until the morning," he said.

OOXXOO

They left early the next day, after the men going with them had said their farewells to their families, embracing their wives and kissing their children.

Alexander and his companions waited just outside of the village, waiting patiently, they understood that not all was certain in battle, although they all grinned at Alexander, having faith they would win because he was with them.

The little girl Hephaistion had befriended came running through the thawing snow to see him, her steps faltering as she reached the group of men, suddenly shy about going further. She held a small twig, with fresh buds on it, clutched in her tiny hands.

Hephaistion jumped down from Briseis and went to her crouching down and holding his arms out to her. "Dedra," he said, as she ran into his arms. He stood up lifting her to him and she pulled back a little, smiling and handing him the twig, which he took from her and tucked into his belt, thanking her.

She embraced him once more, then he set her back on the ground and she ran back towards the village, stopping only once to turn to wave goodbye.

Hephaistion jumped back on to Briseis, the men were coming from the village.

"And how old will you be when she comes of age, Hephaistion?" Ptolemy asked. "Because it looks as though you have her heart."

Hephaistion laughed, but did not reply, he only looked to Alexander.

Brandor and Talis came over to them, then led the way.

For a moment Alexander could only think of the journey to this village, he looked back on it now as they rode away from it. The freedom they had won marred by Hephaistion's sickness. If they had not met up with the Therici, if they had tried to return to Epirus, then Hephaistion would have died, he was sure of it.

He looked up to the sun, feeling it's warmth for the first time in a long while, and gave thanks to the Gods for watching over them.

The snow was beginning to thaw, spirits were high. They headed along through valleys and found their way back to the lake, still frozen, but Talis insisted they ride around it, rather than over it.

Hephaistion studied the land around them, remarking on the fact that they had been blinded by snow when they first came here. That on a day like this Stegran's directions would have been easy to follow.

He had borrowed a chiton from Perdiccas, and wore it now, discarding the fur cloak and hat, preferring to be warmed by the rays of the sun. The cloak lay across Briseis' haunches. The hat was tucked in his belt, on the other side the twig given to him by Dedra. His hair had grown longer, it shone now in the sun.

Alexander studied him for a moment, though every fibre of his being knew Hephaistion.

Aware of Alexander's gaze, Hephaistion turned and smiled. "We were only supposed to come to Illyria, lay low and see out the winter." He shook his head. "Only you could find a battle to fight, Alexander."

"And what will you do then, Alexander?" Seleucus asked. "Will you take your Therici and rule the world?"

"Ah, but they're not his Therici," Ptolemy countered, "Brandor is practically chief, victory tomorrow will seal it".

"You could go home…to Macedon," Perdiccas suggested.

"You are forgetting," replied Alexander, with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes, "I was exiled. I did not just decide to come to Illyria, I had no choice."

"He'd have forgotten it by now," said Ptolemy. "It was the drink that was talking…"

"He said things he shouldn't have, even under the influence of the wine," Hephaistion countered, glancing at Alexander. "Yes, he loves Alexander, but he fears him too. He shows pride in him and then fears he will excel him. Attalus knew what he was doing, he had intended the insult. Philip should have turned on him, not the son who had been offended."

Hephaistion's words brought the conversation to a halt, they had been taken back to the night of the wedding party. Reminded of what had happened they understood Alexander's reluctance to make the first move.

Brandor halted his horse and waited for them to catch up, he pointed at the forest, then to the sun, now moving low in the afternoon sky.

"We stop where meet," he said, indicating they would use the same campsite.

"Perhaps he thinks it is a good luck omen," Hephaistion said, pushing his horse forward.

Alexander reached over and took his hand, stopping his progress. He leaned over and spoke softly. "Thank you, Hephaistion…for your words."

Hephaistion grinned. "They are just forgetful sometimes." He pushed his horse forward into a collected canter, laughing at Brandor, encouraging him forward into a race to the campsite. The others gathered momentum and raced after them, their spirits lifted as they gave a cavalry charge into the forest.

OOXXOO

They built a fire and cooked the supply of meat they had brought, they had brought some drink, but not enough to intoxicate, they needed their heads clear in the morning.

As it grew dark they spoke of Fladon, the chief the Glaucini had killed. Brandor talked fondly of him, then shyly of his love for Shanna, before stirring the men to battle to take vengeance for Fladon's murder.

Hephaistion translated his words then placed his hand on Alexander's arm, stopping him from adding more to the speech. Alexander nodded, it was not his time…or place.

He knew they would be welcome to stay with the Therici, that they had indeed intended to find a place, to wait and see if his father tried to make amends. The hostile messages received at Dodona did not give any sign. His father was angry.

Perhaps Demaratus would be able to pour oil on troubled waters. It was a hope he held in his heart, he missed his father, despite everything.

He smiled as Hephaistion came and threw his arms around him, lightening his mood. Alexander knew he did it deliberately. He turned to kiss his lovers lips briefly.

"Grecons," said Talis, pushing himself up from the log he had been sitting on, throwing the rest of his drink away and striding over to them. He ruffled Alexander's hair, and planted a kiss on Hephaistion's cheek, before heading to where he had made his bed.

Alexander pulled the furs around himself and Hephaistion, then lay down, spooning himself around Hephaistion's body. They did not speak, but watched as the others lay down and settled.

Alexander ran his hand along Hephaistion's side, nuzzled his face in to his neck, then embraced him, wordlessly declaring his love, before closing his eyes and feeling sleep claim him.


	29. Chapter 29

Alexander watched Brandor as they approached the Glaucini village. He had been born to be chief, and now he had his chance. At a time when his own future was uncertain, he envied Brandor. Even Galadrian now happily followed him.

He reminded himself that this was not what he wanted. He wanted to lead the Macedonian army, not an Illyrian tribe. He closed his eyes and saw himself on the training ground, saw his father grin over at him and even in this image he felt himself grinning back, the love of war...of battle, in both of them.

He opened his eyes and turned the javelin in his hand and looked for Hephaistion. He was already in the distance, moving away through the trees. They would be opposite each other when the fighting began. He would be flanked by Perdiccas and Seleucus, while Hephaistion would have Brandor and Ptolemy on each side.

Bucephalus stomped his hoof, wanting to be moving, but Alexander waited, needing to give the others time to form their circle. The forest would not conceal them all the way, when they needed to break cover, then they would pick up the pace to get into position.

His eyes fell on the village. It was early morning and there was not much activity. A few men and women went about their business, nothing else. It felt strange to be back, to watch it all from a safe distance while remembering the way they had been treated, how they had almost lost their lives. In his mind's eye he saw the altar, adorned with possessions, with skulls, and sent a prayer to Zeus for those who had not been so fortunate.

They did not intend storming into the village. They wanted the Glaucini to see their arrival, for the women and children to take shelter before the battle. Alexander knew the Therici having cavalry would be surprise enough, the women and children could be sold as slaves, bringing more wealth and ridding this land of a hostile tribe.

Hearing the sound of muffled hooves upon the snow, he saw Brandor lead his men out at the gallop, Hephaistion following then with his small troop, then Ptolemy. Nodding to Perdiccas and Seleucus they made their move, well rehearsed they circled the village, hearing cries go up, seeing men rushing from the hall, swords in hand, looking around, wiping at their faces as if they did not believe their eyes.

There was a moment of silence, then the men of the Glaucini began to shout, some challenged, some laughed, no doubt believing themselves invincible. They would think that the Therici would dismount and rush into battle - they had a surprise coming.

Brandor gave a war cry. The horses sprang into a canter, then a gallop as they went on the attack.

OOXXOO

Hephaistion urged his men forward, joining them in a war cry of their own, pleased to see the Glaucini's scatter as they realised the fighting force coming down, like an avalanche, before them, their confidence shattering as the Therici charged into their village. They hesitated and several of them died because of it, they ran and that also brought death.

It would be no easy victory though, the Glaucini outnumbered the Therici. After the initial shock of the cavalry charge they began to fight back, though there was a desperation, and they hesitated moving forward because of the threat of the horses hooves, because their opponents could turn themselves away from danger.

Hephaistion saw several men rush towards one of his men, Argaon, attempting to pull him from his horse. For a moment the memory of his and Alexander's capture came to mind. He pushed Briseis forward, spearing two of the men, urging Argaon to use his horse to break free. As he did, Hephaistion felt his chiton grabbed, he urged Briseis forward once more, turning to see who held him, shocked as he saw Ajax grinning up at him.

Ajax grabbed for the javelin, snatching it from Hephaistion's grip, pulling him from Briseis and clutching him by the throat. Some of the Glaucini rushed to finish the job, but Ajax roared at them in Illyrian. "He's mine!"

OOXXOO

Ptolemy never felt fear before a battle. He always supposed it was because he believed in the fates - that the way of his death had long since been decided. What was the good in fearing something that he had no power to change?

In the middle of battle he would feel a certain joy flow through him, all else forgotten, just kill or be killed. He knew Alexander felt the same, they had often talked of it.

The Glaucini were actually choosing not to attack him, he had killed a few, one he had sacrificed his javelin to, and he now fought with his sword in his hand, more in support of his men than in defence of his life. He laughed to see the Glaucini run as he approached them.

Looking to his right, he saw Briseis. He pulled his own horse round and galloped forward, his eyes searching through the battle. At last he saw Hephaistion, being dragged along by a giant of a man, the equal of Talis. They were heading for the hall. The giant was calling men to him, to defend him.

Ptolemy gave a cry, dismounting as soon as he was near. He wanted to call some of the Therici to him, but he had been unconcerned about learning much of their language, so he was on his own.

Hephaistion had been taken into the hall, dragged and pulled there. Ptolemy fought his way through, rushing inside, his eyes unable to see at first as they grew accustomed to the gloom, after the sunlight outside. As he ran forward he felt a blow across his head, stunning him. He dropped his sword and another blow came, knocking him to the ground where he lay still, unable to fight.

OOXXOO

Hephaistion fought with all his strength against Ajax, but he was a like a child in his grip and Ajax held him easily.

Ajax spoke, saying he was meant for the god, that a sacrifice now could give them victory, it was not too late. They had angered their god for delaying, that was all. He turned to some of the men with him, telling them to go and fetch the golden-haired one.

Hephaistion struggled again, his chiton twisting in Ajax's grip. He hit out, kicked and threatened as Ajax called the priest forward and dragged him to the altar. He could hear the fighting outside of the hall and he tried harder to resist Ajax but more men came forward to hold him, pulling at his arms, forcing him to his knees until he could not move.

He called above the priests incantation, shouting above it, telling them that if they killed him his death would be avenged, that a god more powerful than theirs would kill them all. He hoped to delay the priest, flinching back as the man laid his hands upon him, spitting at Ajax as the man ripped away the top part of his chiton.

Ajax yelled, uttering curses of his own saying they had no time to waste, to get the sacrifice done so that their god would grant them victory over the Therici.

The priest hurried back to the altar, muttering the incantation faster now. He fetched the bowl with blue paste, intending to mark Hephaistion for their god once more.

OOXXOO

Ptolemy opened his eyes, for a moment having to remember where he was. His face felt wet, he remembered being hit, when he had come to rescue Hephaistion.

Lifting himself up, reaching for his sword, he saw Hephaistion held, like a sacrificial lamb, struggling to get free. A tall man in tattered robes was standing over him, holding a bowl, this man's hand went over Hephaistion's face, leaving a blue handprint, then over his heart, leaving his mark there.

Ptolemy struggled to his feet, unnoticed by the men, now entranced by the ceremony. He leaned against a table, still too stunned to stand on his own feet unsupported, but if he did not move, then Hephaistion would die.

The priest had a dagger now, he moved it through the flame of the fire, still muttering the incantation. The giant was urging him on, Hephaistion jabbed back with his elbow, hitting the giant hard in the stomach, the giant retaliated hitting Hephaistion across the head, and Ptolemy did not need to speak Illyrian to know that he was cursing him.

Ptolemy had no time to find others to help, he dared not leave but he knew he was not able to attack as he would have liked, but perhaps he could take one and give Hephaistion a little more time.

This time the priest yelled, at the giant, as the men reached for Hephaistion and pulled him upright. The giant grasped him by the neck, pulling his head back, as the priest lifted the dagger over Hephaistion's heart, his words growing stronger, just about to strike.

A javelin flew past Ptolemy's head and struck the priest, and with a cry the man went down, stopping him from using the dagger on their sacrifice.

As the javelin struck, Brandor and Talis ran past. Brandor launched into an attack on the men, while Talis took on the giant, forcing him to release Hephaistion, if he wanted to defend himself.

Ptolemy staggered forward, going to Hephaistion, pulling him clear, before falling backwards. Brandor needed help and Talis was struggling against the giant. He felt Hephaistion take his sword, then saw him go forward, slicing the sword across the giant's throat, before going to help Brandor.

It was short work, by the time Ptolemy had got to his feet again there was no-one left to kill.

Hephaistion came to him, not looking much like himself with the blue across his face. He held his hand up and inspected the injury. "You should let Alexander examine that." He looked to the door, then signalled for Brandor and Talis to follow him, just as Alexander ran in with Perdiccas right behind him.

"The battle is won," Perdiccas declared.

Alexander stared at Hephaistion, hurrying to him to check he was unharmed, noting Ptolemy's injury, he looked to the shrine. "Ajax," he said.

"It was a shock to me," Hephaistion replied. "They must have had the antidote to the poison." He walked over to Ajax's body, pulling back the tunic he wore, noting the fresh scar on his belly. "I did stab him."

"He almost stabbed you…or that priest did," Ptolemy commented.

Alexander threw his arm around Hephaistion's shoulders, pulling him to him, before leading him outside. "I left Seleucus in charge of the clearing up," he said. "And it looks like you owe Perdiccas a chiton."

EPILOGUE

The Therici's priest announced Brandor and Shanna as man and wife, and a roar of approval went up from the tribe.

The thaw had come, and green pasture now appeared from the beneath the snow. The Therici had returned to their own lands, taking the village from the Glaucini, selling those who remained into slavery, so they could never strike back.

Hephaistion held Dedra in his arms as he stood by Alexander, watching the newlyweds move amongst their people, receiving gifts, someone was singing, a man interrupted the sweet song with his own, a bawdy love song about two shy lovers going to their wedding bed. People laughed.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw Ptolemy, Seleucus and Perdiccas standing holding their horses. It had been decided for a while now, that they would leave on the day of the wedding. They had eaten well on the wedding breakfast and all that it needed now was for them to say their farewells.

Dedra wriggled in his arms and he let her down, watching her run to her mother, who stood by Argaon, looking at him with love, so Hephaistion suspected there would be another wedding soon, that Dedra would have a new father.

"I am sad you leave today," Brandor said, embracing Alexander. "Stay a little while longer, my friends."

Shanna threw her arms around Hephaistion, holding him closely for a moment, before stepping back and caressing his face. "Thank you," she said. "For all."

Hephaistion looked to Alexander. They could stay, but he knew Alexander was restless to be gone, he did not know quite where they would end up. He had talked about seeing his mother at Dodona for a few days before heading north again, wherever the road took them.

"You are my friends, and I will see you again," Alexander said, pulling Shanna to him and kissing her briefly on the lips."

"Ey!"

It was Talis, striding over, and laughing as he pushed Alexander back, acting annoyed, as if he thought Alexander was trying to steal her from Brandor. Then he held out his arms and hugged Alexander to him, lifting him up and spinning him around.

With tears in his eyes, Talis turned to Hephaistion and embraced him, holding him as if he might never let him go.

"Ey!" said Alexander, stepping forward and pushing at Talis' strong shoulders to get him to break the embrace.

Talis laughed, then wiped his eyes. "Grecons," he murmured, then embraced both Alexander and Hephaistion at the same time, kissing both their heads before releasing them.

They stepped away and went to their horses, about to leap onto them as two riders approached. They were Macedonians, Calchas and Actor, messengers from Pella, riding fine horses selected for their speed.

They hesitated at the edge of the village befor Calchas saw Alexander and pointed him out to Actor. Then they galloped forward, grinning with delight to have found him.

"You father has sent messengers out to find you, we were just saying that you would never be in a place like this...and here you are, Alexander," laughed Actor. They jumped down from their horses and hurried over to him, bowing low before him.

Hephaistion noticed the looks from the Therici, they had never said who Alexander was exactly.

"We have a message from your father," Calchas said, always the more serious of the two, eager to have his job done. "He wishes you to return to Pella, having had time to reflect, he understands now that, in some of what he said, he may have been wrong. He misses his son."

"Demaratus of Corinth," has done his work," said Perdiccas.

Brandor stepped forward. "Who is father, Alexander?" he asked, his face bemused, his eyes not leaving the well-dressed soldiers who had bowed before his friend."

Alexander grinned, then looked to Brandor. "He is Philip of Macedon, and he has asked me to come home." He looked to Hephaistion. "We are no longer exiles. What say we go home?"

Ptolemy and the others gave a cheer then leapt onto their horses, congratulating each other

"King Philip?" Brandor was asking. Then turned back to the Therici, shouting out to them, while pointing at Alexander.

"He says you are Alexander, Prince of Macedon," Hephaistion translated, bringing his hand up to rest it on Alexander's shoulder.

"What of Attalus?" Alexander asked Actor.

"Gone to Persia with Parmenion," came the reply. "I think he was getting too big for his boots, I even heard your father snap at him a time or too. You should have seen your father, Alexander, if you had then you would know how much he loves you."

Alexander smiled to hear it, travelling the distance in his mind, wanting to hear his father's voice, to have things right between them.

Brandor slapped Alexander on his upper arm, grinning at him.

"I will see you again, Brandor," he said. "Some day I might have need of cavalry."

Hephaistion jumped onto Briseis, while Alexander leaped onto Bucephalus. The Therici came forward to bid them goodbye. Dedra was held in Argaon's arms as she waved them farewell.

As the village disappeared from sight and they headed for Pella, Hephaistion reflected on the time they had spent in exile. Not so much the days spent avoiding Olympias at Dodona, but the time alone. Ptolemy and Perdiccas were too close for him to seek some comfort from Alexander. They might never be alone again.

"The nights will still be ours, Hephaistion."

Lost in his thoughts, he almost did not hear the words spoken by Alexander. Looking over at the man he loved, he realised he had been thinking the same thing. Yes, the nights would still be theirs…and some moments in-between…and the memories of the times they'd spent in Illyria, one winter, when in exile.

THE END


End file.
